The Farosi
by JJAndrews
Summary: Book 1: Since the Age of Heroes, House Cassius has prospered across the Sunset Sea in the land of Farsos, for the last three hundred ruling the whole continent. Now, as the great game begins, and forces from the darkest nightmares wake again, House Cassius will return to Westeros and the game of thrones will be changed for ever. For the Crown, the Senate and the People of Farsos!
1. Chapter 1

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter One

The Foreign Princess

Change. It was perhaps the one word which held absolute sway over everything, more powerful than the King, more ruthless than an army. Everything changed, old friends who swore they would remain comrades forever went down different paths, castles crumbled to ruins and old soldiers were killed by young knights filled with the vigour of youth. Yet, since the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion, things had been changing more than Ned had thought was possible. The source of that change was from the force of soldiers entering the courtyard of Winterfell. A Troop of their Light Horse rode in at a steady pace, each of them wearing a dark blue coat which reached their knees, knee high boots with spurs and gaiters as well as a black felt hat with a wide brim pinned up on the left side. Their primary weapons were in sheaths on their horses saddles, their sabres were worn on the left side and leading them was the man Ned had been looking forward to seeing.

Jon Snow, wearing the uniform of a Farosi Lieutenant, was at the head of this Troop. He looked a man now, his shoulders broader and his look very confident. He was sixteen years, he had been almost forteen when he left for Farsos, and Ned was proud of how far he had come. He looked at his children to see how they reacted to seeing his son again. Robb was smiling, happy to see the one who could be called his best friend again, the same could be said for Arya. Bran was happy to see him again too but, because of how young he was, didn't remember Jon too well. Rickon barely knew who he was and Sansa seemed indifferent, more interested on who he was escorting. After Jon lined up his men on their horses a large carriage entered the courtyard, it's surface painted a dark blue and with glass windows. On the door was the crest of the United Kingdom of Farsos, a rearing black unicorn and a rearing black gryffon, between them a black crown. The driver of the carriage opened the door and held out his hand which was taken by a silk gloved hand. From the carriage emerged a young woman of seventeen years wearing a dark blue coat lined with white fur. Her thick hair was light brown and arranged into a great number of curls down to her shoulders with several velvet dark blue bows tied into it. She had a pair of emerald earrings and a simple silver and emerald necklace.

Ned bowed respectfully to the ambassador from the United Kingdom of Farsos out of respect for her title.

'Lord Stark,' she said in a dignified voice as her hand maids, ladies maids Ned remembered they were called by the Farosi, climbed out of the carriage after her.

'Welcome to Winterfell, Princess Radwen.'

'I am honoured to be your guest here. I am sorry I couldn't arrive with the King but my work in Kings Landing needed to be done as soon as possible.'

'There was no problem with your delay Your Highness. We have prepared a feast to welcome you here'

'I am most grateful for that Lord Stark. I hope my escort will be well treated while we're here.'

'They will be, Your Highness.'

'Good. Your son Jon did his duty well.'

With that she shared a few words with Catelyn and then with his children, chatting for a few minutes with Sansa and agreeing to speak more with her later. Ned however looked to Jon who had now climbed off of his horse and ordered his men to do the same. The young man then walked over to Ned, he walked in a very dignified way and his movements were well controlled.

'Lord Stark,' he said to him and inclined his head, keeping his gaze away from Cat.

'Welcome home Jon,' Ned said to him. 'The uniform suits you.'

'Thank you.'

'Go say hello to your brothers.'

Jon allowed a faint smile onto his face at that and nodded before walking over to Robb and, after a few words, hugged each other and laughed.

...

Sansa had come to the conclusion that she definately liked Princess Radwen. The foreign princess was quick to laugh, friendly and was always immaculate in her appearance. It had been two days since she arrived at Winterfell and they were in her chambers there, several of the other ladies in Winterfell, even Septa Mordane and Princess Myrcella, were there chatting and enjoying some light snacks. Sansa ate another lemon cake before taking a sip of her black tea, a luxury the Farosi seemed to bring with them everywhere.

'I am glad to see this castle at last,' Radwen said to Sansa. 'If I had the time I would have come here for a leisure trip.'

'Why couldn't you?' Sansa asked in response.

'I have a lot of work in the capital. Everyday I have to sort out trade agreements, deal with the Iron Bank, reading rejections of proposals, it's a nightmare sometimes you know. I suppose this is the first real holiday I've had in about two years.'

'Your father places a great deal of trust in you,' Mordane said to her.

'Indeed he does. When he passes, on that sad day, I will become Queen of Farsos.'

'Why do men turn down your hand?' Sansa asked her, confused as to why someone wouldn't want to marry the princess.

'It's unfortunate but I made it clear that when I become Queen I will not be a tool for another to gain power. Because of this, many men don't like the idea of surrendering their power to me.'

'Won't that cause a problem for the next succession?' Mordain inquired.

'Not really. I have two older brothers who have both turned down the crown. Miccal, he's the eldest, turned down the crown for a navy career and he is married. Last I heard they are expecting and my other brother Simoki is courting a woman at the moment. If the worst comes to the worst one of their children will take the throne. Their's no issue really.'

'Why can't Prince Simoki take the throne?' asked Jeyne Poole.

She was silent for a few moments, looking down at the floor for a moment before deciding on her answer after taking a sip of tea.

'About three or four years before the Greyjoy Rebellion my kingdom lost a war against our neighbour, Gwaithol. As a part of the terms of the peace we surrendered to them most of our island colonies and Simoki, he'd been a cavalryman in the war, was so disgusted that he left the army and stayed on Streki's Island, the largest of the islands and started a little uprising. Since then he's been cancelled out of the succession.'

'Is he alright?' asked Sansa.

'Of course he is. Last I heard he was leading his little band around stirring up trouble. In all honesty I don't think he's in much danger, he has the Gwaithol army running wild trying to find him.'

'I don't think this is suitable talk for ladies,' Mordaine said in a knife sharp voice.

Sansa wanted to hear more. She could imagine this renegade prince hiding in the depths of a forest with a noble band of men, heroes fighting against the wicked invaders from Gwaithol.

'Indeed Septa, my apologies,' Radwen said with a chuckle.

Sansa ate two narrow slices of bread with a few pieces of vegateble between them, and finished her cup of tea only for one of Radwen's servants to refill her cup at once.

'What is your country like?' Sansa asked the princess.

'Very different to Westeros,' she answered and smiled fondly.

'You can tel us more, surely,' said Jeyne.

'Alright then. It's about the same size as Westeros but in it my favourite place is the city of Serdera,' as she said it her face took on a wimsical expression. 'It's a wonderful city you know, spread over three islands at the mouth of the Bay of Unicorns. I tell you my dears, it is a wonderful place. The streets are lined with small trees, all of them filled with singing birds, musicians are on every corner and the glass workers are stunning there. The glass makers allow crowds to watch them work hot liquid glass into wonderful figures. One of them, Marikin Ferish, one made a glass ornament of a rearing unicorn in less than ten minutes and it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. As soon as he was finished I bought it, it's back at the embassy in King's Landing. And then there are the street parties, thousands of people in masks dancing through the night, fireworks turning the night into day, you would love it there, all of you. When I was forteen I spent a year there and I always made sure to return for the party season.'

'Why do they wear masks for it?' asked Sansa.

'It's much more fun, not knowing just who you are dancing with. At my last party there I was on a bridge with some of my friends when a daring young man asked me to dance with him. Well, I couldn't possibly refuse and,' Radwen turned crimson at saying it, 'and he kissed me before he was dragged away by his friends. I still don't have a clue who he was.'

'That's so sad,' said Sansa. 'Not knowing your first kiss.'

'Yes, it's sad. Still, if he had known who I was I doubt he would have done it.'

'There must be something you can tell us about him,' Jeyne insisted.

'Well, his hands were rough so he was a working man but his clothes were very expensive, and they weren't just for a constume either. I think he must have been one of the wealthier glass workers. If I told my father that he would never let me go again.'

'I'm afraid it's time for your lessons now Sansa,' Mordane told her and stood up. 'Finish your drink and we'll go.'

Reluctantly Sansa emptied her cup into her mouth and stood up.

'Before you go my dear,' Radwen said and walked over to a desk with a small collection of papers on it, the top one covered with large letters spelling out "Monthly Fashion" and under it was a picture of a dancing woman in a flowing dress. 'I think you might like this,' she handed the papers to Sansa who looked at it curiosuly. 'It's a magazine on the latest fashions in Farsos, this one has a detail on the latest hair styles and I think you'll like them.'

'Thank you Your Highness,' Sansa said to her and curtsied before leaving.

...

Later that day Ned was sitting in his solar, looking forward to sleep later before going hunting with the King the next day. However, he had one last piece of business to handle before he could get ready for bed and, sitting with Maester Luwin, they waited. A tap came from the door and Ned allowed them to enter. Into the solar stepped Princess Radwen with a Farosi man wearing a dark purple waistcoat and carrying a black box in one hand.

'Let's get down to business Lord Stark,' she said formally and sat down in front of the Lord of Winterfell, across the desk from him.

The man sat down next to her, opened the box and took from within a piece of paper.

'You have the weapons ready?' Ned asked her.

'Yes. Five thousand Type Six Service Flintlock Rifles and two hundred thousand rounds of ammunition with four Sterington cannons with the included powder and cannon balls. They're all in a warehouse in King's Landing and I have a rider ready to take the signed order to Whiteharbour and then down to the capital. A merchant ship is waiting to bring the goods north as soon as they have the word.'

'And the payment is the same?'

'Yes, one hundred and six thousand Dragons, we expect the full amount ready at Whiteharbour when the rifles arrive.'

'And you will have it, my word on that.'

'Excellent Lord Stark,' the man with the princess said and smiled. 'Oh, I'm Green, Mister Green the lawyer handling major arms deals. We just need your signiture here,' he pointed at a line near the bottom of the paper.

Ned read through the document and then, seeing that it was all as they had discussed through letters, he past it to Luwin for a last check.

'It seems fine to me Lord Stark,' he told him.

Ned picked up his quill and signed the paper, agreeing to the largest purchase of arms the North had seen in many years.

'There's one thing I'm curious of Lord Stark,' the princess said to him, 'why are you buying these weapons? I mean, there's no risk of a war is there?'

'No there isn't but I saw how powerful these weapons are,' he told her and remembered how thousands of Ironborn were cut to ribbons by the Farosi, and how the reavers longships couldn't compete with the large frigates and battleships of the Farosi Royal Navy. 'Threats will never go away and winter is coming. The King Beyond the Wall is raising an army of Wildlings, I will not let the North be exposed to invasion.'

'I understand Lord Stark. Those primatives won't understand what they're facing.'

'I hope the rifles will be enough to hold them at bay.'

'So do I Lord Stark. You understand of course that the United Kingdom cannot send troops to help if the Wildlings attack.'

'I know.'

'Good. Well, it's been a pleasure Lord Stark.'

'Thank you Your Highness.'


	2. Chapter 2

The Farosi

 **AN: Well, the response from last time was extrememly positive and I'm glad to see so many have favourited this story, thank you.**

 **Please enjoy and review.**

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Two

The Lieutenant of Light Horse

 _CRACK!_

The cloud of smoke filled the air and Jon Snow, Lieutenant Jon Snow, pushed the lever on the underside of his carbine and the spent cartridge was ejected from the breach of the weapon. The courtyard in Winterfell was occupied that day by several dozen people, a few Lannister and Baratheon soldiers who had nothing better to do, a large number of House Starks men, some of the servants and half a dozen of Jon's own men, were watching Jon showing Robb how his weapons were used.

'Type 2 Donley&sons Lever Action Carbine,' he said to Robb and handed him the weapon. 'It's only just been issued.'

'I like it,' he said and got a feel for the weapon. 'And this is what all of you have?'

'Just the Light Horse,' he explained. 'The infantry and heavy horse haven't got them yet but the Purple Boys have rifle versions.'

'Purple Boys?' he asked.

'The Royal Guard.'

'I see. Well, how long do you think it will take until the whole army has them?'

'A long time Robb. There's no need, I mean the reason we have them is that we need to attack and reload faster than those foot sloggers.'

'Foot sloggers?'

'It's just slang for infantry.'

'I'm glad I won't have to fight these carbines Jon.'

'So am I. Do you want to use it?'

'Of course I do,' he said and Jon passed him a bullet.

Jon watched Robb as he loaded the carbine the same way Jon had explained to him, lowering the lever to open the breach, pushing the bullet into the breach and then closing the breach before firing. For targets they were using the same ones used by the archers but directly against the wall so they wouldn't accidently shoot someone. Robb was able to hit the target to the cheers of the Stark men, although he didn't get a bullseye.

Nearly three years before this he had been in that very same courtyard saying goodbye to his brothers and father. As part of Farsos's plan to strengthen ties with Westeros they had decided upon the "Foreign Officers Programme" which saw them recruit the sons of noble families into the Farosi army and navy. The youngest age for this was forteen and many of his new classmates were the same age. Now, a fully trained and commisioned officer of His Majesties Army he and the rest of the 11th Regiment of Light Horse were sent to Kings Landing as part of the Embassy Guard, made up of one Regiment of Foot and one Light Horse, one thousand six hundred men, to protect the businessmen and officials working on behalf of the United Kingdoms companies and government. As the current ambassador was also the princess and future Queen of Farsos, there was also a company of the Royal Guard and a platoon of Royal Engineers led by one of the Westerosi officers.

Jon had been in the capital for three months by the time it was announced that they were going north to Winterfell. In that time he had gotten used to leading his troop of fifty men, most of the time they had been drilling, using their carbines and being involved in riding exercises. The only combat they had seen was in assisting the Gold Cloaks in catching smugglers, Jon remembered that he had killed someone for the first time doing this. They found some smugglers as they were unloading their supplies. Jon ordered the charge before they could escape, each of his men firing a shot at full charge before drawing their sabres. Jon had brought down his sword onto a smuggler and almost severed his head with one blow. As an officer he had to attend several parties at the embassy, at one of them he had met King Robert who had just complimented him on his resemblance to his father before he went towards the whisky servers.

After Robb fired a few more rounds from the Carbine he handed it back to Jon with a grin.

'I want one.'

'For army use only Robb.'

'Come on Jon, can't you work out something?'

'I can get you a shotgun.'

'Sounds good. That reminds me, I have something for you.'

'Yes you said earlier. What's the mystery?'

'This way.'

The two of them walked away from the yard and towards the kennels where Jon noticed that many of the dogs were worried about something as Robb led him towards a caged off stall.

'Not long before the king arrived, father had to execute a deserter from the watch. On the way back we found a Direwolf.'

'What? But Direwolves haven't been seen south of the Wall for centturies.'

'I know Jon but we found it. The wolf had died but it had a litter.'

'A litter? Are you telling me that there's a litter of Direwolves in Winterfell?'

'Yes. We found five of them, one for all of the Stark children. We've been keeping our pups in our rooms for now, stop them from upsetting the royal little prick Joffrey. Bran keeps breaking that rule though.'

'What are the odds?'

'I know. It's incredible but just before we left Bran heard something.'

'Go on.'

'He said he heard a whimpering so we turned around to see another pup.'

Robb opened the stall and there, sitting on a pile of straw, was a large wolf pup, its eyes as red as blood and its coat was whiter than freshly fallen snow. The strangest thing about it though was that it made no noise, not even the slightest noise that any animal made, instead it sat there looking at Jon in utter silence. Jon walked in and crouched before the wolf and patted it on the head very gently, for a moment there was no response but then it licked Jon's hand.

'I think he likes you,' Robb said and smiled. 'Are you allowed pets in the Farosi army?'

'We are, troops of cavalry are allowed mascots as well.'

'Then you've got your mascot.'

'Does he have a name yet?' Jon asked Robb.

'No, most of the people here won't go near him.'

'Why not?'

'He just sits there Jon, not making a noise, silent as a ghost. He just makes everyone nervous.'

'I like him,' Jon said and stood back up. 'Silent as a ghost you said.'

'I did. Why?'

'Ghost. He's called Ghost.'

'Suits him I think. I can't believe you'll be gone so soon Jon.'

'Neither can I. I think the Princess just brought me all the way up here to just sign some papers.'

'I'm surprised father's buying guns, I mean after what happened on Dragonstone I didn't think he'd want to risk it.'

'I heard about that. Lord Stannis bought a lot of powder but he didn't check on how to store it properly.'

'I'm surprised anyone survived it.'

'Me too.'

'According to one of the servants at the embassy King Robert was furious when Lord Stannis died in the explosion. His daughter survived though.'

'What happened to her after that?'

'The poor girl's been a ward of the crown since then.'

'Is she looked after?'

'No, half her face is a mess of greyscale and the queen hates anyone who isn't her children and the King doesn't care about anything that can't get him drunk.'

'Poor girl. When father goes south he can keep an eye on her.'

'I hope so.'

'What's it like, coming back after all this time?'

'Different. I remember all those years we spent here, I remember the games we played but after three years away it doesn't feel like home anymore.'

'I understand Jon. We all have to grow up one day. Still, just remember that you'll always have a home in Winterfell.'

'Don't let Lady Stark here you say that.'

'It doesn't matter. She doesn't like you Jon but no matter what happens you are my brother.'

'I'm glad to hear it.'

'So, go on then, tell me what Whitestone was like.'

'The Whitestone Academy, it's just outside the capital of Farsos, that's First Sight. The place is surrounded by fields and woods though so it feels like its the middle of nowhere. The Academy is huge though, there rooms for hundreds of cadet officers and there are dozens of other buildings like the armouries, the stables and the store rooms. When I arrived I was billeted to share a room with three others, two of them were Farosi but the other was from the Reach, his name's Sam Tarly. We were all in the same classes and it was a nightmare.'

'Why, what were they teaching you?'

'Not just numbers and letters but we had to learn fitness, they woke us up at the crack of dawn nearly everyday and we had to do a run. That nearly killed Sam. I had to drag him along sometimes, and after that we were allowed breakfast.'

'Sounds rough.'

'It was, for the first year they taught us all the same, how to read maps, look at terrain, ride horses properly, fencing, field fortifications, commands and shooting.'

'I'm guessing you enjoyed the shooting most.'

'Of course I did. In the second year though we learned how to specialise, I signed up for the Light Horse and Sam went to join the Engineers.'

'What do the engineers do?'

'They make the more complex fieldworks, keep up the roads and build pontoon bridges, all important.'

'Sounds it. Why did you decide on the Light Horse, not the Heavy Horse?'

'It just felt right, the Light Horse needs men who can think fast, and I don't think the Heavy Horse will be around for much longer.'

'Why?'

'Gins make armour useless. The Heavy Horse wear armour and only have swords, lances and pistols. I'll trust my mens carbines over the lancers anyday.'

'I have to disagree, none of your men have any armour, in a hand to hand fight they won't stand a chance.'

'We don't let the enemy get into a hand to hand fight though,' Jon countered and gave a Ghost a scratch behind the ears.

'I still have faith in the sword over the gun.'

'Your mistake Robb. Should Ghost stay here or should I take up to my room?'

'Did you hear that?'

Jon was confused for a moment but then he heard it. A howling. The two brothers closed the stall and then walked outside where the howling was much clearer.

'Where's it coming from?' asked Jon, in his guts he knew something was wrong.

'Sounds like it's from the Broken Tower.'

...

The day had come and they were leaving Winterfell. Princess Radwen had decided to stay as well, to give Jon some time with his wounded brother.

'It's the decent thing to do Jon,' she said to him and smiled reassuringly.

His men had showed their sympathies as well, Sergeant Osoni, his second in command of the troop, had taken over duties of drilling the men for Jon while he spent time with his siblings, Corporal Donley had provided him with a bottle of whiskey and the troopers had shown him absolute respect. Now he had to leave, the Princess needed to be back at the embassy to sort out the dealings for the Farosi military exercises in the Arbor for the next few months. The King agreed as well, he needed to get back to the capital as soon as possible for his "Kingly duties", whatever those were.

Jon had inspected his troop that morning, Ghost at his side, and then dismissed them, telling them when to be ready to leave. After that he walked through Winterfell, going through the halls he had grown up in, now he was a man of the Farosi Army and it was time say goodbye to Bran, one last time. He waked into his younger brothers bedroom and she was there. Lady Stark was haunched over her son, looking down mournfully at him as she looked, as if by just looking at him she could heal him. For a moment he considered leaving but no, he didn't. Remembering White Stone he cleared his throat and Lady Stark looked at him as outside Bran's wolf howled.

'What are you doing here?' she asked Jon, sounding half dead as she did so.

'I came to say good bye, Lady Stark.'

'You said it. Now go away.'

There was a time, years ago when he was a child, that those words would have sent Jon running away to hide in his room. Not anymore. With confidence he stepped further into the room and came to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Lady Stark. She glared at him, the look was as cold as the touch of an Other.

'I told you to leave. We don't want you here.'

'He is my brother,' he reminded her and crossed his arms, matching her glare for his own. 'I am a soldier, Lady Stark. Do you really think you can send me running like the child I was?'

Now she was stunned, the look on her face was one of someone who had been challenged for the first time in many years. Jon would not let her scare him off again.

'I'll call the guards, bastard.'

'I'll call _my_ troopers. No matter what happens I'll see my brother.'

'Make it quick,' she told him and looked away from Jon.

So Jon knelt next to his brother and put his hand on his shoulder.

'Bran, I'll come back and see you again. Next time I have leave I'll come back and tell you all about the capital. The Red Keep, the embassy, you'll love to hear about it. Farsos as well, I'll tell you all about it. Goodbye Bran,' he then kissed Bran on the forehead and stood up, just as he was about to leave the room she spoke again.

'Jon,' he turned and looked at her, at the woman who had never called him by his name. 'It should have been you.'

That was the last straw.

'Is that all you wish to say Lady Stark?'

'It is.'

'Good. In that case I think you need to know something. If you want to speak to an officer of His Majesties armed forces you say use rank. When I am in uniform and on duty you will call me Lieutenant Snow unless I give you permission to use my name. It almost wasn't Lieutenant Snow, in Farsos they do not use bastard names, not in a very long time and I had every right to be known as Jon Stark under Farosi law. I turned that down so it would cause no strife between you and _my_ father. I suppose that means under Farosi law they see me as having more a right to the name Stark than you do.'

He turned on his heel, the spur of his boot scraping on the floor, and left, his boots snapping against the floor as he left Winterfell and, after saying his last farewells to Robb, he went to his men, they mounted and, at the word of the Princess, they began to ride out, the large collumn of Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks and Farosi rode away from Winterfell and headed South. Soon the party reached a crossroads where Jon noticed Tyrion Lannister, the Queens younger brother, riding north with Uncle Benjen and some Lannister soldiers and there Jon had an unusual feeling. It was as if something else should have happened on that spot, something that was not possible anymore. Slowly Jon turned south and rode on, never looking back.

 **AN: So, I would like to tell you where the inspiration for this story came from. I have always been interested in the history of the colonial era when European colonies were established across the world. It was an interesting time where ancient cultures had to interact with the new. Films set in this era, such as Zulu and The Last Samurai are favourites of mine so I wanted to come up with my own version of that but set in Westeros.**

 **Princess Radwen is an OC I came up with years ago for a now deleted Lord of the Rings story but I liked her so I decided to bring her back for this. The technology level of Farsos is roughly equivilent to Europe in the mid 1860's to early 1870's, with weapons such as revolvers and lever action carbines as well as the caplock rifles used by Farosi infantry.**

 **As for Jon standing up to Catelynn, he's been away for over two years by this point and has been trained in this worlds equivilent of Sandhurst so I don't think that his fathers wife could intimidate him anymore.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Pinoy Gamer: Thank your for your review and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

 **darkstel: What do you mean by antique addition, I'm not sure what that means. Could anyone please elaborate?**

 **So, please review and I hope you enjoy the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Three

The Innocent of the Trident

'Any sign of her?' Jon asked Corporal Donley as he reigned his horse in.

'None,' the man with a truly impressive moustache answered. 'Our lads are doing their best but there's no sign of the poor lass.'

'Alright, keep looking.'

That little shit Joffrey had done something to provoke Nymeria, Arya's Direwolf, which led to the wolf attackig Joffrey and now both Nymeria and Arya were missing. For the past two days or so they had been searching for her, Lannister, Baratheon and Stark as well as Jon's troopers. Each of Jon's men had been given a whistle they had been ordered to blow if they found Arya. Jon hadn't told anyone else about it, worried the Lannisters would find out and under no circumstances would he let them get to Arya. Well, that's not true, he had told his father who entrusted the message to a few of his most trusted men.

Jon, Ghost by his side, rode through the woods, in the distance he could hear shouts of "Lady Arya!" or "Hello!", all the while hoping that he would hear the sharp blast of a whistle.

'Mister Snow,' he heard a voice ask and he turned to see a woman riding towards him.

Princess Radwen was wearing a light blue jacket, riding skirt and a top hat with a veil, a riding crop held in her hand. On a string around her neck he saw that she was wearing a whistle as well.

'Your Highness,' he said and nodded his head to her. 'I think you should return to the holdfast. It's not safe out here.'

'I am not a defenceless dove, Mister Snow,' she said and reached into her jacket to pull out a small of the right size to fit into a small pocket. It was a work of art as well as a weapon, the handle made of pearl, the barrel and cylinder gilded and her initials were carved into the grip, for Radwen Aneti Lissia Cassius. 'Now, Mister Snow, I will help you.'

Knowing he would not be able to change her mind he allowed her to join him as they rode through the woods. In the gloom ahead he saw a group of Lannisters looking for Arya with their swords drawn, one of them was carrying a double barreled shotgun, one of the only firearms the Westerosi were allowed to buy until recently.

'I don't trust those men to not harm your sister,' she said to Jon.

'I think they'll probably shoot Nymeria on sight,' Jon confided in her.

'Rogues,' she cursed.

'I agree.'

'You know Mister Snow, when you arrived at the embassy I looked at your record from Whitestone, I'm fairly impressed.'

'You are?'

'Indeed Mister Snow. Your teachers at Whitestone described you as a man with a natural talent for leadership. Since your sister went missing I have to say those reports have been confirmed very well.'

'Thank you Your Highness,' Jon responded.

'You can dispose of the formalities when no one's around Jon,' she said to him.

'If you insist Your Highness, Radwen I mean.'

'I do insist. I've been called Your Highness enough for several lifetimes. Tell me, what do you think really happened? Prince Joffrey's been insisting that Arya, the butchers boy and Nymeria attacked him.'

'May I speak freely?'

'Of course.'

'I think he's talking shit. At Whitestone I met plenty like him, privilaged twits who thought their birthright was to do whatever they liked. He probably just threatend Arya and Nymeria tried to defend her.'

'I agree with you, and with the Queen calling for justice I dread to think what will happen next.'

The sound of a galloping horse filled the air and one of Jon's men, trooper Hensin, rode up to them.

'Your 'ighness, Lieutenant Snow sir, I need to talk to you.'

'What is it?' he asked.

'Well it's like this sir, I saw the whole thing.'

'What do you mean?'

'I was takin' me horse down to the river for a wee drink sir and I saw the prince, your sisters and that butcher lad. The bairns that have gone missing, they were just playing with sticks when the prince and your other sister arrived. The prince, he,' Hensin looked down nervously.

'Tell us,' Princess Radwen said gently.

'He drew his sword and cut the lads cheek. It looked like he was going to do more so I got ready to stop him when Arya gave that little bastard a good whack with a stick and threw his sword into the river. Her wolf snapped his arm once but that's all the beastie did.'

'Good for her,' the princess said aprovingly.

'Do you swear this is true?' asked Jon.

'I swear sir, before the True Queen herself.'

'Good, when we find Arya return to the hold and then we'll make sure the king knows.'

'Yes sir.'

'Return to your duty.'

'Yes sir.'

The trooper rode off and galloped off into the woods.

'Thank goodness he came to us,' said Radwen.

'I agree. Let's get back to looking for Arya.'

The two rode on for a while, Jon keeping his hand near his revolver in case something very bad happened.

'Are you looking forward to being back in the capital?' she asked him.

'I suppose so. After weeks on the road a rest will do us all good.'

'I agree completely. I enjoy travelling but it does get exhausting.'

'True, it's a shame that Lady Shireen's not there anymore.'

'The poor girl, lost everyone and is being treated like an unwanted pet.'

'Did Lord Renly even have the right to send her as a ward to the Tyrell's?'

'With the king gone and no Hand I think that Renly was the highest official left in the city. At least in Highgarden she'll be away from the queen.'

Then the whistle came, sharp and clear through the trees and Radwen looked at Jon before cropping her horse and galloping towards the source of the noise. Jon looked around and saw a trio of Lannister men who had seen the princess galloping off and were now following on foot. Jon urged his horse forwards and galloped after the Princess, a few minutes later they made it to a cluster of his troopers who were dismounted next to their horses with Arya who was eating some army biscuits. Laying down next to Arya was Nymeria, and Ghost went over to her as soon as they locked eyes.

'Jon!' Arya shouted when she saw her older brother and ran over to him, hugging Jon the second he was off his horse.

'You're alright Arya, you're alright. Don't worry anymore, you're safe.'

'No I'm not. When the queen gets hold of Nymeria she'll want revenge for biting Joffrey. I was going to send her away when he found me,' she pointed at one of the men, Trooper Bonbin.

'Arya dear,' Radwen said and knelt down next to her, 'look at me. One of your brothers men saw what happened and we know the truth. I won't let that viscious woman harm a hair on Nymeria's head, do you understand?'

'I do,' she said.

'Good,' as she said they heard shouted voices close by and they weren't northern by their accents.

'Lannisters,' said Jon and Nymeria began to growl.

'We can't waste more time,' said Radwen as she stood up. She pointed at five of the men. 'Stay here with the wolf. Don't let the Lannister's touch her, do you understand?'

'Yes ma'am,' one of them responded.

'Good. The rest of you, we're taking Lady Arya back to her father.'

By now most of Jon's troop had arrived.

'Quickly,' she said and mounted her horse, Jon putting Arya on his and climbing on behind her.

The large number of cavalry began to ride back towards the holdfast they'd borrowed for the search but after just ten minutes they were stopped by twenty Lannister guardsmen who stood in two solid ranks with their spears forwards.

'Hand over the wolf girl,' one of them said. 'We're under orders to take her to the king.'

'I am taking Lady Arya to her father,' Radwen told him.

'You have no power here,' the Lannister man responded.

'The correct way to address a princess is "Your Highness". Now would you be kind enough to say that again, properly this time?'

'Your Highness, hand over Arya Stark.'

'No. Now, be kind enough to get out of our way. If you don't we'll ride over you.'

'I'd like to see you try,' he shouted back.

'Mister Snow,' Radwen said in a relaxed way to Jon, 'charge.'

'Your Highness?

'Charge them down,' she said loudly.

Jon cleared his throat and took in a deep breath.

'Troopers, draw!' Jon and his men drew their swords, Arya stiffening in front of Jon as he did so. 'Troop, make ready!' his men raised their swords and he saw a few of the Lannister men take some steps back. 'Charge!'

With a mighty shout the horsemen galloped forwards and the Lannisters began running in every direction. Soon there was no one in front of them and Radwen breathed a sigh of relief.

'Let's make a dash for Lord Stark,' she said to Jon.

'Here, here.'

The horsemen galloped as fast as they could towards the holdfast and made their way towards the tent used by Lord Stark.

'Section One, stable the horses,' Jon gave the order. 'Everyone else, form a ring of guns around the tent. No one is allowed in if they're not of House Stark.'

'Yes sir,' Sergeant Osini shouted. 'You heard the Lieutenant of Light Horse, form a ring.'

So they formed a ring around the front of the tent with their carbines, two ranks deep while Jon, Princess Radwen and Arya stepped into the tent. Ahead they saw Lord Stark, sitting behind a desk looking anxious and flanked by a pair of Stark guards and Jory Cassel.

'Arya,' he said in relief and the girl ran over to him. 'Where have you been Arya, where have you been?'

'Hiding from the Lannister's, Lord Stark,' said Radwen as she sat down in the chair before him. 'Jon's men found her and we need to move quickly.'

She then told him about what had happend with the Lannister soldiers on the way back and the colour drained from his face.

'Your Highness, if Jon's men had killed any of the Lannister men it would have led to a crisis, your people would be dragged into it.'

'I thought it was worth the risk. We are responsible for a large amount of the royal income, the king would never risk damaging it, and under the Protection of the Innocent Act of fifty one hundred and one we are obliged to provide security to any person of any nationality if there is reasonable grounds to suggest that her life or health is in danger. Legally I did nothing more than my duty.'

'Good,' Lord Stark said and looked at Jon. 'Well done, you did well.'

'Thank you Lord Stark,' he responded in a crisp military tone.

'Arya,' he said to his daughter, 'before we take you before the king you have to tell me everything.'

And so Arya spoke, telling her father exactly what happened and when she was finished Jon nodded.

'One of my men saw this happen,' Jon told him. 'The stories match exactly.'

'Where is that man?'

'Outside the tent now.'

'Good. I want him there when we talk to the king.'

'I understand.'

'And twenty of your men, make sure their carbines are loaded. Jory, go and find Sansa.'

'Yes Lord Stark,' he said and left, patting Jon on the shoulder as he went out.

'This is not going to be good,' Lord Stark said to everyone in there.

'I agree. By doing this I am placing myself at odds with the future king. This will be very difficult,' Radwen said formally, placing her riding crop under her arm as an officer would with his batton.

'Yes it will be. Are you sure you want to risk your peoples business in Westeros over this?'

'As I said the king wouldn't risk our business. You have my support Lord Stark.'

'I'm glad to have it.'

Jory then entered the tent, worry on his face.

'Lord Stark, Lady Sansa is with the queen. The king wants to see you and Arya now.'

'Then let's go,' he said and stood up, leaving the tent.

As they proceeded inside the keep of the hold fast Jon looked to eitherside, his hand close to his revolver, and saw Lannister soldiers, all waiting for the order. Behind Jon were a mix of Farosi and Stark soldiers. The men of House Stark were better armed than the Lannisters, about a quarter of them were armed with double barrel shotguns and the others had revolvers as well as their traditional weapons, the Lannisters only had a few with shotguns. The Baratheon soldiers were standing back, this was a Lannister-Stark problem, none of their business. Ahead of him the king was looking frustrated, the queen was full of barely concealed rage and Sansa looked unsure. Lord Renly and Ser Barristan of course looked concerned, they had expected to be on the road by now and not watching a dispute between the children of nobles. He looked at Radwen whose hand was at her jacket near where he knew the revolver was sitting.

'Now then Arya,' King Robert said as calmly as possible, 'can you tell us what happened?'

And so she repeated what happened, telling it exactly as she had told it to Princess Radwen and their father, Jon couldn't help but smile in a bit of pride. When she reached the part about beating Joffrey there was a burst of laughter and everyone looked to Lord Renley who was clearly enjoying the fact that Joffrey was defeated in combat by a child, and a girl.

'Tell that part again,' he asked and laughed before walking out.

'That is not how it happened!' Joffrey snapped, physically shaking in rage. 'That is not how it happened.'

'It certainly is,' Jon told him.

'Wait till you're spoken too, bastard!'

'He's telling the truth,' said Sansa. 'It all happened very fast but, but, Joffrey's telling the truth.'

'Liar!' Arya shouted at her an Lord Stark gripped her shoulder.

'One tells it one way, the other says another story. What am I to believe?'

'Someone must be punished for my son being maimed,' Cersie said coldly.

'I know someone who can confirm the truth,' said Princess Radwen. 'Trooper Hensin, please come here.'

The soldier stepped forwards and saluted the king.

'Your Grace, I'm one of Lieutenant Snow's men and I saw the whole thing happen between your son, Mister Snow's sisters and the bairn from the butcher.'

He then spoke as politely as possible of what had happened, with every word Joffrey's face grew red and he was physically shaking in rage. When the trooper finished he stepped away and saluted, first to King Robert and then to Jon.

'As you can see, Your Graces,' said Radwen, 'it is apparent that Prince Joffrey attacked Arya and her friend, Nymeria was simply protecting her mistress as any animal companion would do.'

'Lies,' Cersie said simply. 'I see no reason to trust the word of one of the small folk led by a bastard. This whole thing is a lie made up by the same poeple who attacked my men.'

'Attacked them?' asked Radwen. 'I have no idea what you mean.'

'You charged at Lannister soldiers, nearly killing them.'

'Oh that, Your Grace, that was just a misunderstanding. I had no intention of seeing your men killed, if I wanted blood spilled I would have ordered the troopers to use their guns.'

'Where is Arya Stark's wolf?' Cersie demanded, ignoring the subtle threat. 'I want that dangerous beast killed.'

'NO!' Arya shouted and, for the first time, Ghost growled.

'You are not getting anywhere near Nymeria,' Radwen told her, her tone as cold as the queens, her crop shifting back to her hand. 'Tell me, how long did it take for you to persuade Sansa to lie against her kin? Did you threaten her, manipulate her? Tell me, I want to know.'

'How dare you?' Cersie growled.

'Easily. At my command my men can gun down all yours in seconds.'

'Enough,' Robert said with enough strength to silence everyone. 'I believe the trooper. Joffrey, you are a little boy with no idea on how to fight anything larger than a mouse.'

'Your son was atttacked!' Cersia snapped at him.

'Let it teach him what happens when he behaves like an idiot,' Robert dismissed the matter. 'Arya, your wolf is safe. Sansa, never lie to me again.'

Robert got up that ended it all. Inwardly Jon breathed a sigh of relief at this ending well. As the queen got up to leave she stopped in front of the princess and hissed something at her before she left.

'What did she say?' asked Jon.

'That I'd regret this, the usual drivel. She has the imagination of a ten year old. Now, Mister Snow, please send one of your men to fetch Nymeria.'

'Yes Your Highness. I don't trust the queen, I think at least two of my men should stay with you at all times from now on.'

'Is that really necessary?'

'Yes.'

'I'm surprised you don't insist on having a trooper in my bed with me.'

'I'd never suggest it,' he said quickly, feeling the embarrasment of the thought as the Princess chuckled.

'I know, still, there are a few men I wouldn't object to,' she said and left, Jon quickly ordering a pair of troopers to follow her, leaving Jon slightly smitten.

 **AN: Thanks for all the feedback and to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed. Please review, let me know what you think.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **Pinoy Gamer: I'm glad to see you're enjoying this. I've always loved the look of the age of 19th century armies and applying them to Westeros was irresistible. Thanks for the review.**

 **Tertius711: True, the technology of Farsos does give them a massive advantage but, as shown at Little Big Horn and Isandlwana, a good use of tactics can allow less well equipped armies to triumph. For seeing the Farosi army in action, that's still to come.**


	4. Chapter 4

The Farosi

I own nothing by my OC's

 **Thanks again for all the feedback and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter Four

The Embassy

Sansa sat alone in her room, well not completely alone since Lady was sitting next to her, happily accepting Sansa's comforting patting behind the ears. Since the incident on the Trident she had been by herself except for Mordane, Lady and Jeyne Poole. She couldn't stand to be around anyone else after being revealed as a liar in front of everyone. She had to lie though, Mordane said so, she had to stand with her husband to be, but at the same time she had to lie in front of her father and the king had ordered her to not lie again. Gods, what was she to do? She ate with her family, had her lessons and then went off to be alone with Lady. The Direwolf was by her at all times, her faithful companion. After arriving both Lady and Nymeria had their coats cut down to make the heat more bearable and there was also several bowls of chilled water close by at all times. They looked smaller but still had a wonder to them and were still larger than any dog. When a tapping came from the door of her room she expected it to be Mordane and she allowed her in.

'What lesson do we have today Septa?' she asked, looking out of the window.

'Wrong woman dear.'

Sansa stood up and curtsied at once to Princess Radwen, wearing a light blue, almost white, dress with a satin shawl around her shoulders, behind her stood a pair of men in purple unifors and black armour with helets made with full face masks which bore the image of a scowling bearded man.

'Your Highness I'm sorry,' she said quickly.

'It's alright Sansa. May I sit down?'

'Of course,' she responded and Radwen sat down in a chair opposite Sansa's, her two guards flanking her.

'I think the best thing about the trip to Winterfell was not having the brutes in black around all the time,' she said and chuckled. 'I came to see how you were. I've been busy at the embassy for the past few days but I've heard you're on your way to becoming a loner up in her tower.'

'It's just I don't think anyone wants to see the girl who lied to the king.'

'People lie to the king every day,' she told her. 'If you want my honest opinion everyone will forget it soon but if you stay in here you'll earn yourself a reputation as the mad woman who lives in a tower and that will take years to go away.'

Sansa didn't know what to say so she just remained silent.

'Anyway, I know the perfect thing to get you back out and talking with people again.'

'You do?'

'Of course. I'm hosting a garden party at the embassy tommorow at lunch time. I'd like to extand an invitation to you and your sister. I already asked young Arya but she said no, to be honest I think she is a bit young for these events but you're the right age. Would you like to come my dear?'

'Oh yes,' she said at once and smiled, excited at the thought.

'Splendid, it should put you over until the tourney starts. I'll see you tomorrow then, we start just before midday and promise me you'll choose something nice to wear.'

'I will, Your Highness.'

That was why the next day, just before lunch, Sansa rode through the streets of the capital, Lady following her mistress and escorted by Tomard and another guard towards the embassy. The Farosi Embassy sat in the middle of what was called "The Farosi District" or "The Foreign Market" where a few dozen merchants from Faros did business. She had heard one of the servants mention the area used to be called Flea Bottom but the Farosi had been buying a lot of it and rebuilding everything. Around the edges were still remnants of what it used to be, a downtrodden piece of squallor but now most of the streets were wide and each one had at least four floors. Sansa was very impressed by it and she hoped she would be up to Farosi standards. Her dress was a light pink with frills on the cuffs and her hair was done in the way described in the magazine Radwen had given her in Winterfell.

'Here we are,' said Tomard as they arrived outside the embasies walls, which were about eight feet tall and topped with battlements being patrolled by Farosi troops. She looked up at one of those men and recognised him as the trooper who had unravelled her lie about what happened at the Trident.

The gate was made of oak and painted in the fashion of the flag of Farsos, the right gate was painted dark blue and on it was a rearing black unicorn, on the other a rearing black gryphon on a yellow field. Between the two animals was a black crown. On either side of the gate stood a tall thin wooden hut and a soldier with a rifle and fixed bayonet stood in each one.

'Names?' one of them asked.

'Tomard, escorting Lady Sansa Stark.'

The man looked at a leather bound book and after a few moments nodded.

'Welcome to the embassy. You'll have to leave your weapons at the officer inside.'

'I see,' Tomard agreed as the gate opened revealing the embassy properly.

Sansa rode through the gates with her escort and saw ahead of her a large house, Westerosi by the look of it, but it had been expanded, a covered varanda added along the front and another floor. Next to the embassy, which sat at the back of the complex, was a pair of buildings, one of them with the word "Barracks" on the front and the other was clearly a stable. In front of those buildings was a large garden in which almost a hundred people, mostly Farosi but a few Westerosi, talked and enjoyed food and drink. Under a covered stand was a Farosi band playing relaxed music, servants the men in close fitting black jackets and trousers while the women wore black dresses with white aprons and cloth caps, carried trays around to the guests who laughed and talked. In the middle of the garden was a fountain topped by a glass statue of a woman in robes pointing forwards with a long finger.

'Go and have a good time Lady Sansa,' Tomard said and helped her off her horse, Lady staying close by.

'Father commanded you to stay with me,' Sansa reminded him.

'I'll be close by, now have fun,' he said and handed his sword and revolver to a Farosi soldier while allowing another to take the horse towards the stables.

'Thank you,' she said, smiling, and walked towards the party and soon she saw the princess with several women talking excitedly.

'Sansa!' the princess called over to her.

Happy that the princess spotted her she went over, Lady following behind closely as she aproached the Farosi women.

'Your Highness,' Sansa curtsied.

'Ladies, let me introduce you to Lady Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King.'

'Lovely to meet you Lady Sansa,' said one of them, an older black haired woman of about forty years. 'I'm Countess Roonis but you can call me Roonie, everyone does.'

'Pleased to meet you Roonie.'

'It's a large dog you have,' said a woman with darker skin and light brown hair.

'She's called Lady, and she's a Direwolf.'

'She's so calm,' the dark woman said and gently patted Lady on the head. 'Oh, forgive my manners, I'm called Olika, Lady Olika of Serdera, daughter of Ormino, Duke of Serdera.'

'Isn't Serdera the place where they have the best glass workers?'

'That's right Lady Sansa. Did you see the statue on the fountain?'

'Yes, it's wonderful.'

'It was actually made by Dorshil, the finest glass worker in all of Serdera and by extension the whole world.'

'It's of the True Queen,' said the final woman, a tall regal girl of about nineteen with silver blonde hair and wearing deep blue robes.

'Who is the True Queen?'

'I suppose you wouldn't know,' she said. 'I am Densa, Priestess of the Church of the True Queen. She is our goddess, five thousand years ago Casius the Sea Walker left the lands of Westeros with his followers and travelled into the Sunset Sea. On their ships they became lost at sea until one night a crowned woman rose out of the sea and pointed towards the horizon where the night before a star had fallen from the sky. Casius thanked her for what she did and the woman came onto his ship. She announced herself as the True Queen of sea and land and commanded Casius to travel to where the star fell and then build a kingdom in her service. She then descended into the depths of the sea. Two days later Casius and his fleet of ships landed on a beach on the land which we now call Farsos and on that very beach was a giant emerald, taller than a man.'

'That emerald was used to make the Emerald Throne of Farsos,' Radwen added. 'My father sits on that throne now.'

'Was the True Queen ever seen again?' asked Sansa.

'Twice,' Densa answered her. 'A few years after leading Cassius and his people to salvation she came to him and took shelter in his hall to hide from a ruthless man who tried to force her to be his wife. He came riding a mighty sea snake and the True Queen, with the help of Cassius and his people, defeated him. She transformed Cassius's ships into whales who drove the monster and its rider away, so humiliated that he would never return.'

'That's amazing. What about the second time?'

'Long ago when night descended upon Farsos the True Queen appeared before the Senate and King Wikin the Second. She proclaimed that this was the beginning of a night which may never end and she would protect her people. At her command the seas around Farsos became too violent for any ship to sail or for any cold to turn to ice, she allowed crops to be grown in the most frozen ground and proclaimed, many years later when a new day dawned, that she would come to her people one more time before she walked to the beach and transformed into sea foam, being swept back to the depths where she dwells now in her palace.'

'The Long Night,' said Sansa. 'Like in the stories.'

'It's similar yes,' Radwen agreed. 'Maybe a coincidence though, come on, let me show you around, Sansa.'

So Radwen and Sansa walked around the garden, Sansa was introduced to many of the wives of the important Farosi in the city.

'It's a pity Olika has to leave soon,' Radwen told her as they enjoyed some iced milk on the shaded veranda. 'Still, she's enjoyed her holiday here.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Why does she have to go home so soon?'

'Her father's unwell so he's stepping down as Duke and she has to be there to see her brother become the new Duke.'

'Is her brother a good man?'

'I met him a few times. He's pleasant enough but rather dull. He has an incredible mind though and used to serve as First Senator of the Treasury.'

'What's that?'

'Our equivilent of Master of Coin. Oh, is that Jon over there?'

Sansa followed Radwen's gaze to see Jon, wearing a uniform much more ornate than the one he rode to Winterfell in. It was much more tight fitting, white gloves which almost reached his elbows and gold epaulette's were on his shoulders. Even Ghost looked like he had been brushed before the party. He was speaking to another officer, an extrememly large man of Jon's age who seemed to be as fat as the king was.

'Who is that man?'

'Samwell Tarly, he's an officer of engineers.'

'Engineers?'

'They're responsible for the technical parts of the army like building temporary bridges, fortification, repair work, he's actually helping us with our building work here.'

'Tarly, isn't that one of the families from the Reach?'

'Yes, he's the heir to Horn Hill.'

'Then why is he in the Farosi army?'

'His father wanted him toughened up a bit, not that I can blame him. According to his report on his first day at the academy he cried becasue of the sound of gunfire.'

'Dear me.'

Jon said farewell to his friend and then, followed by Ghost, walked onto the veranda, proceeding towards the princess and Sansa.

'Mister Snow, having a pleasant time I hope.'

'Of course Your Highness,' he said after a quick nod of his head before looking at his half sister. 'Sansa, I was hoping that I could speak with you.'

'Of course,' she said nervously and the princess stood up.

'I just have to go and greet a few more guests. I won't be long Sansa.'

When she left Jon sat down, the two wolves sitting together quietly next to them, and after an uncomfortable moment Jon spoke.

'Sansa, about what happened on the Trident, I just wanted to make sure we can move on from that.'

'I lied to the king, Jon.'

'That's not what I was annoyed about. You took a side against the family, that was the only problem I had.'

'That's all?'

'Yes, my loyalties are to the gods, to father and then to Farsos.'

'I am to be Joff's queen. I had to back him up, to agree with his version of what happened.'

'I know, just remember this, you may one day be his wife but the blood in your veins, in our veins, is Stark blood. If we don't stand together as a family we will fall alone.'

'The lone wolf dies,' Sansa remembered the metaphor her father had used before.

'But the pack survives,' Jon finsihed. 'I say we put this behind us and move on.'

'Alright,' Sansa agreed, looking down at Lady who almost seemed to be smiling in approval, if wolves could smile.

'Good,' he said and stood up. 'I'll see you soon Sansa. I'm off duty in two days so I can come up to the Red Keep. Will I see you then?'

'Of course,' she said, releaf flooding her features. 'Arya will be happy to see you.'

'And I'm looking forward to seeing her.'

Jon then left, Ghost following close behind just as Radwen returned.

'That was perfectly times wasn't it,' she said and grinned a little.

'You and Jon planned that,' she said.

'Naturally,' the princess said and took a sip of her drink, 'and done in perfect style.'

...

Inside of the embassy that night Ned Stark, with six of his guards, walked into the princesses "study" by a servant girl.

'Her Royal Highness is getting changed at the moment,' she said to him. 'Please make yourself comfortable, she will only be a few minutes.'

'Thank you,' he responded and sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

He scanned the room with his eyes, the windows were covered by heavy curtains, the floor by a carpet, both a dark blue, and on the wall behind the desk was a large portrait of His Royal Majesty, King Lukon the Seventh of House Cassius. In the portrait he was broad shouldered, sitting on a mighty white war horse, sword in his right hand and a thousand of his black armoured guards following him into battle. He had a large mooustache, as most Farosi men did, and a long purple cloak fell from his shoulders over his dark blue uniform. One wall in the study was covered with book shelves holding tomes which spoke of the history of Farsos and Westeros, military tactics, economics, law and politics. On the princesses desk was an open book, Westerosi by the look of it, and out of curiosity Ned looked read the page it was opened to.

 _Wbile it appears that over the centuries, or perhaps millenia since the Lannisters took control of Casterly Rock many stories have arisen since then as to how this came about. All centre around Lan "the clever" who did something to take control of Casterly Rock and here we shall take a look at them all._

'Sorry I kept you waiting,' the Princess said as she entered through a side door.

'It is fine Your Highness,' he said and stood up to bow.

Radwen sat behind her desk and closed the book.

'Westerosi history is of interest to me,' she explained. 'Afterall, Casius the Sea Walker is from here is he not?'

'I understand.'

'You know some of our historians went over to the Citadel and looked through the Maester's records for anything about him.'

'Did they find what they were looking for?'

'Not much, a diary entry from thousands of years ago stating that a man named Casius Hill spent all his money on some ships in the Westerlands before sailing across the sea.'

'Hill?' Ned asked.

'Yes, Hill. He must have been a bastard. Anyway, we must discuss the debt the crown owes the Bank of Farsos.'

'Yes Your Highness, seven hundred and ninety thousand dragons is a lot of money.'

'Indeed,' she agreed. 'You must understand that the debt is a significant one, equivilant to Eight million Queens in Farsos, that's the amount of money the gold would cost anyway. What is there to discuss about it?'

'The realm is beggered,' Ned told her in a way which was as straight forward as possible. 'The king won't listen and now we have to find money to pay for this damned tourney.'

'I understand Lord Stark, I do. Well, to be honest I was expecting you to ask about this, probably to either forgive some of the debt or reduce the interest.'

'The latter is what I was hoping for. We will pay back our debts but we can't if the interest keep getting larger.'

'It won't be easy but I'll try to work something out with Mister Wrenwood.'

'Thank you Your Highness,' he said and bowed before turning to leave.

'Oh, Lord Stark,' Radwen suddenly spoke up.

'Your Highness?'

'Give my regards to your wife,' she said with a slight smile and then went back to reading as Ned slowly walked out, feeling like dozens of eyes were locked onto him.

 **AN: So, that was the latest chapter, the pieces are in place and the game goes on. So, what are the Farosi up to do you think. Let me know and please review.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Pinoy Gamer: Don't worry, Lady is fine, for now, ha, ha, ha, ha.**

 **chase manaena: Just so you know, most of the first book in this series is written, I'm just finishing the drafts before I update.**

 **ArchPsion: Well I'm glad you like it, I mostly wrote this because I couldn't find many stories where firearms were introduced and then they mostly focused on how cool the guns were than the story. I'm glad you liked the last chapter and i hope you enjoyed this one.**

 **Tertius711: War of the Five Kings, certainly not, don't forget that I wrote previously that Stannis died. As for what comes next, we'll see.**

 **Knight8: Well I'm glad you agree with me, after years of being away from home and training as an officer he is a very different man here than in cannon at this poi** **nt.**

 **Thanks to everyone's reviews and I'm glad you liked it. Please keep reviewing and have a great day!**


	5. Chapter 5

The Farosi

 **Again, thanks for all the feedback and I've been blown away by how many have favourited this story so far. Keep them coming and thank you.**

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Five

The Discovery of Lady Arya

Arya Underfoot is what they called her for many, many years. She wasn't underfoot anymore, rather she was underground, in the sewers of King's Landing, all because she had gone off chasing cats and now, wonderful, she was lost and up to her neck in slime, slowly feeling her way along the wall, hoping she would find a way out, and hoping she would avoid the magician and the juggler, whoever they were. Something in the back of her mind told her that they were a dangerous pair and she had to avoid them. Finally, she reached a higher tunnel and climbed up into it, finally out of the disgusting river of filth. It was still pitch black so she had to keep her hand against the slimy, rough wall. Then suddenly there was a change in the feeling of the stone, it felt new, the stones, or rather the bricks were smooth and well made, not ruined by years of use. Down the middle of the tunnel went a small stream of dirty water running towards the rest of the sewers.

Light.

Ahead she saw a faintly flickering light, probably a candle so she made her way towards it, hoping against hope that she would not find herself in even more trouble. As she came close and closer to the light she now noticed that between her and it was a large iron gate, padlocked as well, but there was just enough room between the bars for her to squeeze through. Just before she reached the candle Arya tripped on something and grunted at pain in her knee. When she stood up she saw that the stream in this part of the sewers had been covered by a sort of wooden platform, that was what she had tripped on. Arya stepped onto the platform and walked onwards, soon reaching a bend and she was suddenly in more than just a sewer, more like a store room. It was wide enough for dozens of men to stand in, but most of the space was filled with wooden crates stacked on top of each other. There were several candles in the room and she picked one of them up, holding it close to a crate to read the black writing on it.

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 500 ROUNDS .450 CAL._

What that meant she had no idea, but the next crate read the same, and the next, dozens of the crates said the same thing. Senatorial though, it sounded like Senate and she had overheard Princess Radwen talk about the Senate of Farsos, although what it did she had no idea. She reached some other crates, these ones narrower and longer and one of them wasn't nailed shut. Curious, she pushed the lid off and saw guns in it, five odd looking weapons, not unlike the ones Jon and his men used, but at the same time different, like Jon's revolver but made longer. On the lid she looked at the writing.

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 5 DONLEY &SONS REVOLVING RIFLES._

There were many crates like that, all stamped with those words. She studied another, holding her candle close to the writing to examine it all carefully.

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 15 TYPE 3 HAND BOMBS. WARNING, EXPLOSIVE, KEEP AWAY FROM OPEN FLAMES._

Arya quickly pulled her candle back and looked at the crate, taking a step away from it and hoping that was the last time she'd see that. She continued further into the armoury, that was the only word for it, past many boxes and crates, all stamped with the words "Senatorial Office of Supply" but soon it became apparent that there was more than just one room, there was a whole complex of them, some looked to be made from caves but all were packed with identical crates, and she saw a massive variety of what the Office of Supply was involved in.

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 200 RATION BISCUITS_

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 50 TINS OF MARCHING BREAD_

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 1000 DONLEY &SONS .455 CAL_

 _SENATORIAL OFFICE OF SUPPLY, 50 USED SERVICE COATS_

She noticed a hatch in the floor where it felt like there was just stone under the wooden floor. She gripped the handle of it and pulled with all her might but it didn't budge, it was either locked or too heavy to open for her. Witha sense of curiosity she held her ear against the door and held her breath, just being able to hear movement below her through it. There was a noise not from below but from close by, _boots_ , Arya realised, and they were coming towards her. She almost dropped the candle as she hurried to find a hiding place, left the candle on a crateand then wedged herself between two crates, her small size for once helping her hide from these people. For a few tedious minutes she hid there until she heard the two men enter the room, not the same two men from earlier thankfully.

'We have to check our supplies again,' one said to the other.

'If you ask me the Colonel's being ridiculous about this. Who the Hell would steal from the stores, no one knows about it but us, a couple of the officers and the princess.'

'That's Her Royal Highness to you.'

'Relax, the Colonel's not watching us.'

'You never know. Just check none of the crates have been tampered with and then we'll head up to the mess.'

'Alright Sarge, what are we having today?'

'They're doing sausages and something else, I don't know. Hang on, which idiot left the candle here?'

'What candle where?'

Arya looked out into the room from her hiding place and saw the two men standing by the crate she left the cadle on. Both were clearly Farosi, their long moustaches displayed that, but she wasn't sure if they were soldiers or not. In the dim light it was hard to tell but they didn't seem to be wearing dark blue, rather black jackets, white shirts, thin neck ties and top hats on their heads. One of them, the man identified as "Sarge" had three silver bands around the right cuff of his jacket and seemed to be older by a few years.

'False shotgun shells, bloody Hell. Are you going to report this?'

'No, not worth it, I'll just remind the men not to leave candles next to bullets,' Sarge told him.

'Remind them that two and two makes four while you're at it Sarge.'

'Even they're not that stupid.'

'What are false shotgun shells anyway?'

'Exactly what they sound like. Instead of firing they make the gun into a bomb, kills whoever uses it.'

'Nasty that. Let's get out of here.'

After moving the candle onto a crate labelled "Biscuits" they finished their check, nailing shut a few crates and then left. As soon as they were out Arya hurried away from her hiding spot and went after them, her small feet not making a sound on the wooden floor. After a short walk they left behind the wooden floor and onto a stone one leading to a set of steps, a way out. Arya smiled in triumph, it was her way out. Of course she waited until the two men were out and then waited for a while, counting to a hundred, and then made her own way to the steps which led to a trap door in the roof. It was easy to open and she was almost blinded by the sunlight, making her stagger and wince until her vision recovered. The girl looked left and right to discover that she was in an alley so she hurried out of it to discover that she was in an odd looking part of Kings Landing. The streets were very wide and the buildings looked to be well planned unlike the confused mess of buildings she had seen in other parts of the city after they arrived. The people there were all dressed like the Westerosi and suddenly she realised where she was, the Farosi District. It wouldn't be too hard making her way up to the Red Keep from there, she could see it from where she was. After walking for a minute or two she saw a commotion ahead, a carriage being pulled by a pair of white horses and a number of Light Horsemen rode ahead of it.

'Make way for Her Highness!' the driver shouted and Arya gasped, realising who must be in it.

It was the carriage Radwen always rode when she went up to the Red Keep. Arya got out of the way and watched as it slowly went past, even seeing Radwen on the inside of it, a concerned look on her face as she looked out of the window. The people close by bowed as she past and Arya did the same, wanting to blend in a little, that was hard though since she was covered in filth. At the end of the street Radwen waved her hand to her guards who rode to the window and Arya watched as they seemed to listen to the Princess, and then they looked up at Arya herself who panicked, after seeing all that down below she did not trust them so she quickly walked into an alley before sprinting away, looking for a place to hide.

'Halt!' a shout came at her and she looked over her shoulder to see the two riders at the entrance to the alley, one was pointing a gun at her. 'Come over here.'

At Winterfell she had seen how lethal those weapons were when she watched Jon showing them to Robb. She knew better than to resist so she raised her arms and walked towards them slowly as they rode towards her, dismounting and then aproached her.

'It's her,' one of them said to the other.

'Aye, the other agreed. 'Do you remember me Lady Arya?'

'No,' she answered, obviosuly nervous.

'I was with Mister Snow when we found you and your wolf.'

'You're one of Jon's men?' she asked, relieved, they were her brothers soldiers. Still, she was cautious, these men were still Farosi.

'That's right Lady Arya, the Princess saw you and sent us to check on you.'

'You'd better come with us.'

'Where?'

'The Embassy, the Princess said that if it was you we were to take you there.'

'Where's Jon?'

'At the Red Keep looking for you,' one of them chuckled.

They helped her onto one of the horses and then made the short trip to the Embassy. Within an hour she had been bathed and given a Farosi dress to wear, she did not like it but it was a better alternative to her soiled garments. Soon after this she was sitting in what she was told was Princess Radwen's private living room and was eating a quickly prepared meal of lamb and potatoes. Just as she ate some more meat the door opened and the princess walked in, her expression reminding her of her mothers when she was particularly annoyed.

'Your Highness,' she said, remembering her manners.

'Lady Arya, would you mind explaining what you were doing wondering around the streets of this city?' she told her firmly.

'I was chasing cats,' she explained meekly and told her about how she found herself in the depths of the castle and then the sewers which led her to the Farosi District. Of course she left out what she heard of the two men, the magician or whatever, and the armoury in the sewers.

'I hope nothing bad happened,' Radwen said, apparently relieved but Arya had a feeling she was still questioning her. 'How can you do something so silly? Your father's been tearing the castle down to find you, I had to give Jon the day off to help look for you. They've been worried sick!'

'It was an accident.'

'Then I suggest you stop having accidents. One of the men rode up to the keep after we found you, your father will be here soon.'

For a moment she felt dread at the thought but she had to tell him the truth about what she heard. The Princess sat down across from Arya and made some small talk with her for a few minutes.

'How is Sansa?'

'She was wondering why you didn't go to the tourney,' Arya answered her.

'Was she? Well, I just didn't see the appeal, too violent my tastes.'

'Too violent?'

'Yes. I enjoy shooting at targets or birds but I don't like the idea of watching men with sticks poke at each other,' she then had a strange look on her face and chuckled at something in her mind. 'Anyway, I heard about that poor young man who died there and that utter brute Clegane trying to kill Loras Tyrell.'

'The King was furious,' said Arya, remembering it and how delighted Sansa was with the outcome.

'I heard about that. If this was Farsos he'd be in a prison by now.'

There was a knock at the door and one of the servants stepped in, he bowed and cleared his throat.

'Lord Eddard Stark, Your Highness.'

'Send him in,' she said and stood up, as did Arya.

Arya watched her father enter and as soon as their eyes met he hurried over to her and crouched down, embracing her.

'Arya!'

'I'm sorry father,' she said with complete honesty.

'We were worried about you,' he then stood up and bowed to the princess. 'Your Highness, you have my gratitude for finding my daughter.'

'I was doing my duty Lord Stark. I'm just glad to help your family.'

'In that case I'm glad to have a friend in you.'

'The feeling is mutual. Still, I hope young Lady Arya here won't go on another adventure like this.'

'She won't, don't worry.'

'And I'm glad to hear it. Will Jon be returning soon?'

'He will be.'

'Good, I will see you at the Small Council in the morning.'

'Yes,' he said and led Arya away.

Once they were outside of the embassy he didn't say a word until they were in his Solar at the Red Keep and she quickly told him about everything she saw inside the sewers, the two men, which he father brushed off as entertainers, but when she told him about the armoury he was interested, thank the Seven.

'I'll keep this in mind Arya. Still, they might just be keeping a store of weapons for an emergancy.'

The door was opened again and Jory stepped in followed by a man in black, one of the Nights Watch by the look of him.

'Lord Stark,' Jory said to him, clearly concerned, 'we have a problem.'

'Arya, go back to your room,' he told her and the door was closed behind her as she left and the alarmed words of the watchman were muffled.

 **AN: So, the game continues, what is really hidden under the Farosi District and what are they really up to?**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Frost 5: I've never been good with spelling and I'm writing with wordpad which doesn't have spell check or anything like that but I try my best. Still, I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope you liked this chapter.**

 **Tertius711: I really enjoyed writing the background of Farsos, they started as refugees and have built a mighty kingdom now. As for Jon and Sam I wrote in the first chapter that they are a part of the Foreign Officer Programme, an initiative from the Farosi government to recruit Westerosi nobles into their officer corps to strengthen ties between the two kingdoms.**

 **Pinoy Gamer: Well the presence of the Farosi would change a lot of things, and firearms do change the nature of warfare completely, however I was more inspired by events such as the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879 than the expansion era in America. Thanks for the review and I hope you like the next one.**


	6. Chapter 6

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Six

The Actions of Lieutenant Snow

For nearly three hundred years it had been the dream of everyone in Westeros to make it to the Red Keep, to walk through the halls of power. It was in these halls that the dragon kings plotted and schemed, that Blood and Cheese murdered an innocent child and where his own grandfather had been burned alive. Most never reached these halls, fewer still were able to accomplish anything there, but Jon Snow now walked through those halls and he truly did not want to be there. He was meant to be with his men practicing weapons drill before they would head out of the city on smuggling duties later that afternoon and return in the morning. However, instead Her Highness asked him to accompany her to the Small Council meeting where she would present terms for renegotiating the debts King Robert owed Farsos.

'Is it necessary for me to be here?' he asked her again as he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, mostly to keep it from becoming tangled with his legs.

He was armed of course, he was officially one of Her Highnesses guards that day so he had his sword and revolver. With them also went four of her guards, their black armour over purple coats and rifles in hand, as well as Mister Wrenwood, the elderly representative from the Royal Bank of Farsos.

'Not completely Jon, I just think it would be wise for you to try to get an idea of how politics work, you do aim to have a succesful career don't you?'

'Of course Your Highness but I'm a soldier, I don't want to enter the Senate or anything.'

'Depending on how high you go you will become involved with politicians. How high do you aim to go?'

'General,' he told her. 'I want to command a Corps of my own one day.'

'No doubt you have the talent for it. If you reach the rank of general you'll have to deal with politicians so this will be useful for you.'

'If you say so Your Highness.'

'I do say so,' they said as they entered the throne room, the Small Council chamber was just behind it.

That was when they realised something was wrong, namely the shouting echoing around from the chamber. Jon and Radwen looked at eachother and unconciously he reached for his revolver.

'It sounds like the king,' Radwen said and walked onwards at a slightly faster pace, her companions walking after her into the room where the Small Council was in session, or rsther they sat around the table watching the Hand and the King snap at each other.

'The whore must die Ned!'

'Is there a problem here?' Radwen asked as she walked further into the room.

'Let's see if the foreign girl is smarter than the Warden of the North,' the King declared and turned to face Radwen. 'What do you know of Deanerys Targeryon?'

'That she's the daughter of the Mad King, and she's married to a Khal. What's the matter? Are they planning an invasion?'

'The dragon girl's pregnant.'

'Oh,' said Radwen as she took a spare seat, Jon and her guards standing behind her. 'I hope you plan to keep them under watch.'

'Under watch? I want her dead, I want them all dead, if Stannis wasn't as slow as a lame Ox catching up to them years ago we wouldn't be in this mess. Tell my Hand why the girl needs to die.'

'But you can't kill a pregnant girl,' she protested and Jon was surprised at the high pitch she said it. 'It's utterly beastly, the sort of thing that Mountain fellow would do for fun.'

'The child is a threat to the realm,' Littlefinger said to Radwen in a confident tone. 'It must be dealt with.'

'And what if your assasin fails? You'd just provoke the Khal into war sooner. Death will come to Westeros,' Radwen said and stood up. 'We have the right to help protect the people of this realm but we will never get involved with a war you start.'

'And only a craven would kill an innocent babe,' Ned Stark said with an iron voice and now Jon was worried as the king seemed to turn into a raging monster.

'Careful Ned, you speak to your king. The whore dies.'

'If you allow this then I won't stand with you,' he said and unpinned the badge of a golden hand from his chest and left on the table.

'Then get out of my sight Stark. Run back to Winterfell.'

Without hesitation Jon watched his father stride out of the chamber and the Princess tapped Jon's arm.

'Go with your father, keep him safe.'

'I understand.'

'And don't do anything rash. Corporal,' she said to one of the guards, 'give Mister Snow your rifle and ammunition.'

'Yes Your Highness,' he said and passed Jon the rifle, a larger version of the lever action carbines his troopers used, and undid his webbing, passing it to Jon.

Jon quickly went after his father, catching up with him in the throne room and together they made their way towards the Tower of the Hand. Before they entered it his father stopped and spoke gravely to him.

'Jon, there's more going on than just the trouble with the girl. My wife has kidnapped Tyrion Lannister.'

'What? Does the king know?'

'No but he will soon. War may start between us and the Lannisters and I can't be sure who the king will side with. We need help.'

'From where?'

'The Farosi, they have an army on the Arbor.'

'The 8th Corps?'

For a year, if Jon remembered right, the 8th Corps had been stationed on the Arbor to train in beach assualt tactics, probably just another move incase of war starting with Gwaithol again. Jon thought that it made sense, at the academy he'd learned about the Battle of the Salt Cliffs where fifty thousand Farosi troops has attampted a beach landing but had been torn apart by Gwaithol cannons before their muskets could even be fired, including their leader, General Richari Cassius, Radwen's uncle. The few survivors ended up surrendering, and that was at the start of the Fifteen Years War, in fairness both sides fucked up in big ways but it seemed like the Gods themselves wanted Farsos to fail. Jon Arryn had approved it and the soldiers had been behaving themselves fairly well since then.

'That's right. How large is the force?'

'It's an entire Corps, that's ten Regiments of Foot, ten thousand men, three Regiments of Heavy Horse and three Light Horse, that's three thousand six hundred.'

'Almost forteen thousand men. If you can persuade the princess to support us they could turn the balance in our favour.'

'I'll try but I don't know if it will work. Besides, she's probably still with the Small Council and she wants me to stay with you for now.'

'Alright, tonight go and ask her, we need her help.'

'Father, it's not up to her. The Farosi have strict laws on when the army can be sent into action. Fighting smugglers is one thing but sending an entire Corps to fight the Lannisters is another, the Senate and King Lukon need to decide that.'

'Then ask Radwen to send a messanger. We need their soldiers to win this war.'

'I'll do what I can.'

So Jon spent some time after that at the door to the Tower of the Hand, feeling almost like a regular private on guard duty with his rifle and fixed bayonet, making sure only allies could enter the tower, that was until Littlefinger arrived.

'I need to speak with Lord Stark now.'

'Only members of his household are allowed to enter.'

'True Lieutenant Snow but this is important, Lord Stark needs to hear what I have to say.'

'Make it quick then,' Jon allowed him inside and, about ten minutes later, Jon saw his father, Littlefinger and half a dozen Stark men, including Jory, all armed with shotguns, revolvers and swords, walk out of the tower.

'Come on Jon,' he said and Jon joined the group as they went to the stables and then into the city.

...

 _This is disgusting,_ Jon thought to himself as he stood in the brothel, rifle in hand, and waited for his father to finish whatever his business there was. A half naked girl who worked there walked past Jon and smiled at him, which he ignored of course, he was doing a better job than the others who almost seemed to wish that Lord Stark wasn't there so they could enjoy themselves. Still, as they waited Jon just tried to think about what would bring his father into this place. He knew he wasn't seeing a whore, his father would never do that, but it must have been important. For a moment his thoughts went to himself, was he born in a place like this? Was his mother just like the women who left the buildings rooms disheveled and tired? The thought wasn't a good one, he wished so much that his father could speak of her but he never did. The only clue he got was at a party once at the embassy where he overheard a conversation between Colonel Donnah of the Military Police and the king just before they left for Winterfell.

'So Ned Stark's bastard, he's a good lad is he?'

'Of he is Your Grace. His record from the academy is nearly flawless.'

'He's all his father you know, nothing of his mother in him by his looks.'

'Did you know her?'

'His mother? No. Ned only mentioned her name once, it was, something starting with "W".'

'I'm surprised Lord Stark is so open about having a bastard.'

'That's Ned Stark for you, he couldn't bump into someone and not beg for forgiveness.'

For the first time he knew something about he, be it from a king who had just drank four glasses of whisky, but he had a name. With nothing better to do Jon adjusted his webbing, borrowed from the Guardsman, made from white leather and had a large pouch on the right side which held about fifty rounds. He also had another fifty for his revolver.

At last his father emerged from the room he had been in, followed by Littlefinger and Jory, and Jon joined them as they walked outside where the rest of the guards were waiting, shotguns in hand. Before they could reach their horses though Jon saw over twenty men in the red cloaks of the Lannisters, all of them armed with shotguns, march into the street and they were led by Jaime Lannister, mounted on a white horse. The smallfolk hanging around at once ran for it but a few remained, ready to watch. Jon looked about him as the Stark guards gripped their shotguns, Jory drew his revolver. Jon himself thought about what to do, this sort of scenario had been taught at Whitestone. He kept his rifle in his left hand and drew his revolver, if shooting started they'd have to get indoors and fortfy themselves.

'Stay back Ser Jaime, this is the Hand of the King,' Jory warned him.

'Actually, he _was,_ the Hand of the King. Now he's just, I don't know, the Lord of somewhere not very important.'

'You have no right to speak ill to the Warden of the North,' said Jon.

'I can speak to him any way I want to Lieutenant,' Jamie stated as casually as he could. 'Now, you'd better run off back to the embassy, I think your princess needs her toes licked.'

'What are you doing here Lannister?' Littlefinger snapped.

'Get inside where it's safe,' was his response. 'Now Lord Stark, it's about my brother, he's hard to forget, very little and very clever. Your wife abducted him.'

'He was taken at my command,' was the response, Jon knew it was a lie and he respected his father for it, while he had no love for Lady Stark his father certainly did.

'Would you like to die armed?' the Kingslayer asked and the red cloaks took a step forwards, their weapons ready.

'Threaten my lord again and you'll answer with your treacheorus life!' Jory snarled.

'I'll get the Gold Cloaks,' Baelish said and quickly hurried off.

 _Coward,_ Jon thought to himself, probably just wanted to save his own skin.

'I'll make the threat obvious for you. My men will splatter your lords brains all over this street.'

'Kill me then,' the Lord of Winterfell told him, reaching for his own revolver instead of his sword. 'Your brother will be a dead man.'

The Kingslayer just shrugged his shoulders.

'Alright, take him and kill his men, not the bastard though, don't want to piss of the princess.'

Jon aimed his revolver, every Stark man aimed their own firearm, his father included and for a few moments no one moved, no one made a sound. For the first time in his life Jon was about to take part in a gunfight and he tried to work out what to do. All the shotguns were the same type, Frelpon Type 4's, and where everyone was standing they were just inside lethal range from eachother. They were double barrelled, if they could survive the volley's until the reload they could easily escape into the brothel and fortify themselves there. They just had to survive.

Then, almost as if the gods decided it, someone, one of the Lannisters, fired and a cloud of stone burst off of the wall behind Jon. The Gunfight at the Brothel began.

Jon fired quickly, his bullet struck a Lannister soldier in the neck and he fell dead instantly. With his revolver he fired three more times as he felt clous of buckshot fly through the air around him. There was a scream to his left and Jon saw one of fathers men fall to the ground, gripping a wound in his leg. He was hit again and this time his screams stopped. Jon saw his father sieze the shotgun and fired it before snapping off the mans ammo bag. Another shot was fired and Jon felt his hat fly off his head _, that was close_ he thought for a second before he fired again. Both sides stopped to reload their shotguns while Jon kept firing from his pistol, hitting a Lannister soldier in the ammo bag, the powder erupted and the man was torn in half.

'Inside!' Jon's father ordered and everyone rushed inside, one of the men dragging the wounded soldier behind him.

Jon and Jory were the last inside, emptying their revolvers as the doors were slammed shut. Suddenly there were more shots and many of the windows were shattered, the whores screamed and ran away to avoid the hail of glass and lead.

'Everyone to the windows!' Lord Stark ordered as he snapped shut his shotgun.

'I'll get upstairs,' said Jon. 'With my rifle I can pick them off.'

'Alright Jon, just be careful. Don't shoot the Kingslayer! If he dies his father will come for revenge.'

Jon nodded and raced upstairs, went to a room where a naked Septon and a whore dressed up as a Silent Sister (Jon didn't want to know), were hiding under a bed. He threw open a window with the but of his rifle and took aim, shooting down at one of the red cloaks who was firing at close range. The man was killed at once and suddenly ten shotguns were firing at him. Jon jumped back and the shot only damaged the inside of the room and the window.

'What's the meaning of this?' shouted the Septon as he pulled his clothes back on and the whore sprinted out of the room.

'Go and hide! We're under attack.'

The man fled and Jon fired out of the window, striking down another red cloak. From down below he saw clouds of smoke from the ground floor windows, father and his men fighting back. They could hold out, Jon knew, but it wouldn't be easy to win.

Suddenly there was a massive volley of shots and seven red cloaks fell dead. The rest, including the Kingslayer, turned to face the source of the fire and at once rushed for a line of boxes and barrels nearby, making a quick barricade. Jon looked down the street and smiled at the sight.

His men, maybe twenty of them, stood tall and were rapidly moving into two ranks as they reloaded their carbines.

'Well done boys!' Jon shouted down and he recognised Corporal Donley leading the men who saluted up at him.

'First rank, take aim,' Donley shouted as the first rank knelt, fighting as dragoons. 'Fire!'

They fired at the same moment and cut down almost ten of the red cloaks.

'Second rank, take aim, fire!'

The same result and the Kingslayers horse threw him off as it was hit but the Golden Knight was able to avoid getting crushed and he stood up, picking up a shotgun and fired back as the rest of his men retreated.

'Stand and fight!' he shouted at them.

'Cease fire!' Jon shouted as loud as he could and his men heard him. 'Get out of here Lannister while you still can!'

'This isn't over!' he declared and turned to flee.

Relieved that this skirmish was ended Jon hurried downstairs where he found the doors open and in the street he found his father and their remaining guards talking to the Farosi troops. As soon as the troopers saw him they began to cheer him.

'Thanks for letting us have some fun Mister Snow sir!' Trooper Hensin shouted with a thrilled grin.

'Well done men,' he said to them. 'How did you know we needed help?'

'Sir, it was like this. The whole troop was riding out to hunt down smugglers when we we heard the gunfire. A man told us the Hand of the King was under attack and the princess told us you were with him so I led these lads to check on you. Sarge told us not to start a fight but, well, you see what happened.'

'You broke orders then,' Jon said and looked at the dead red cloaks. 'Alright, get back to the embassy and inform the pprincess that you attacked Jaime Lannister's men,' he stopped and thought about his next words, feeling his fathers eyes on him, 'under my orders.'

'But sir that didn't happen.'

'Yes it did,' he snapped at the corporal. 'Is that understood?'

'Yes sir,' he agreed reluctantly. 'Thank you sir.'

'Where are your horses?'

'Tied up in the next street,' answered Trooper Hensin.

'Good. To the embassy, now.'

'Squad, fall out,' ordered Donley and the men moved away at a quick march to their horses.

'Well done Jon,' his father said to him.

'Thank you father.'

'Will you get in trouble for this?'

'Probably. It depends, the Princess is in charge here so my fate's in her hands.'

'I see. Whatever happens, don't forget to try and get her support.'

'I promise father.'

'I'll need to see the king before the queen can sink her claws in deeper. Good luck, send word as soon as you can.'

Jon nodded and hurried as fast as he could to the stables where he mounte his horse and rode as fast as he could towards the embassy, with any luck his men would be there already. Just as he came in sight of the gates he saw ten men wearing black coats and top hats with revolver rifles in hand, Military Policemen, led by Colonel Donnah himself.

'Lieutenant Snow,' he shouted, 'you are under arrest.'

'I need to speak with the princess at once.'

'No, you're coming with us.'

The last thing Jon wanted to do was shoot any of the Military Police, it would not go well for anyone so he dismounted and allowed himself to be arrested.

...

The cell was awful, just below ground under the Military Police building next to the embassy, his only light a candle, a small and uncomfortable toilet was in the corner, there was a small desk, chair and a bed. The front of the cell was made of iron bars and his only company came from the policemen who patrolled the corridor outside. As he waited Jon thought about his men, he hoped that they wouldn't be punished for doing more than just finding information on the fight, this could be a breach of the Neautrality Act which wouldn't do much to win Farosi support. Then he thought of father, would he be dissapointed at not getting to speak with the princess or would he understand?

Eventually Sam was able to visit, which Jon was very gateful for.

'What's happening out there?' he asked his friend.

'Everything's confused,' he answered. 'The Kingslayer fled the city and the Queen tried to have your father arrested.'

'What's happened to him?'

'Nothing, he's safe for now. The princess ordered the whole District to be locked down, no civilian's allowed in the streets without a pass.'

'Why?'

'I don't know Jon, I just don't know. It's a mess outside right now.'

'Will I be court marshelled?'

'Probably, you were in uniform and you attacked the Kingslayer.'

'I'm being condemned for protecting my father. I didn't ask my men to join in.'

'I know that, I helped debrief them. From what they said I think you'd have a good case.'

'A good case, I need a good lawyer.'

'Jon, you saved my life in training, I'll help you whatever happens next.'

'Thanks Sam.'

After Sam left Jon was left by himself, he fel asleep for a while and woke up with a headache but someone had brought in a tray of food. His food was a thin vegetable soup with a few scraps of beef in it, a bun of marching bread and a mug of rum, none of which was appetising but Jon was hungry so of course he ate it. After that Jon resorted to laying down on his bed and thinking about how annoying this was and listened to the steady steps of the guards outside as they patrolled the corridor.

Then there was a change, the noise of the footsteps changed, three more sets, two loud, one soft, aproaching and then the door opened.

'Leave us,' a voice declared and Jon instantly stood up at the voice of the princess.

Her two purple clad guards left the cell and out of view of the bars, closing the door behind them. Jon stood facing her, the two of them silent for a while until Radwen stepped forwards, her expression blank.

'Sit down Jon,' she instructed and he sat on the chair while sat on the bed. 'What were you thinking?'

'I was following your orders, Your Highness,' he said as diplomatically as he could.

'My orders?'

'To make sure my father didn't get himself killed.'

'So you let Littlefinger take him to a brothel?'

'My father said he had to go, I don't know why.'

'Jon, as Ned Stark's son you had the right to defend him but your duty as a Farosi officer meant you should have tried to defuse the situation. We are officially neautral in any actions that go on here.'

'He was my father, I had to help him.'

'I know but your duty to your king comes first. Getting into a gunfight with the Kingslayer and his men was not a good idea.'

'He attacked us.'

'Only because your fathers wife decided to kidnap the midget.'

'I know. It didn't give give Ser Jaime the right to attack us.'

'It didn't, but House Stark has struck the first blow. This throws everything into the mess.'

'What do you mean?'

Radwen stood up and went to the gate of the cell and looked outside, seeing that her guards were out of earshot, she relaxed and turned to Jon.

'You have to unserstand that as the ambassador to Westeros and as the heir to the Emerald Throne, I have a great deal of knowledge, most of which is not known to the public.'

'Of course.'

'I can't give you details Jon but please understand that I want to. In short, my father has decided that Farsos should take, well, take a more active stance in Westerosi affairs than just trading and selling shotguns.'

'Do you mean you have permission to take a side?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'In that case, my father has a request for you. He wants the help of the 8th Corps for when the fighting starts.'

'An entire Corps of Farosi troops fighting alongside the armies of House Stark,' she said. 'I like the image myself.'

'So, does that mean yes?'

'It means,' she said slowly, 'House Cassius wants a strong ally in the North, afterall, why do you think your father is the only Lord Paramount to buy thousands of rifles?'

'I didn't think about that.'

'No you didn't. Jon, you need to look at the bigger picture here. You need to start asking why something happened rather than just accepting that something's happened. We've been throwing red tape and formalities at Lord Tywin Lannister for months now, slowing down the sale of rifles to him.'

'Why?'

'You answer why,' she encouraged him.

'Well,' he said and stood up, 'if you've been planning to get involved in the politics here for months, then I think you wanted the North armed as an ally against the Lannisters as an enemy who only have shotguns at best.'

'Well done, I'll make a politician of you yet.'

'I don't know why though. Why do you want to take on the Lannisters?'

'That's a secret right now Jon.'

'A secret?'

'Yes. I trust you but if the secret is known before the right time then I'll loose my place in the succession. Just trust me, my family has been waiting for this chance for a long time.'

'Alright, I'll let you keep your secrets, but what should I tell my father?'

'That I want an alliance, when the fighting starts, the 8th Corps will be ready.'

'Thank you Your Highness.'

'Just Radwen,' she told him. 'There is something else, your actions today are technically illegal and I know you lied in you rinterrogation.'

'I told the truth, I sent for aid from my men.'

'If you insist I'll have that put in your record, "Grave Error of Judgement" it will say. I'll dock you a months pay as well as appropriiate punishment but consider yourself free to go.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Oh, and before I forget, I have a request to ask you.'

'Is it important?'

'To me it is. You remember that the anniversary of my fathers coronation is coming up?'

'Of course I remember. The twenty fifth anniversay isn't it?'

'Yes that's right. The embassy will be hosting a celebration ball to mark the occassion and I need a partner for the dance. Consider youself conscripted for the duty.'

'Your Highness,' Jon said, a little taken aback, 'I'm flattered but I don't think a bastard is good company for the heir to the throne.'

'Jon, don't worry about that. Besides, haven't you noticed that the names of half the old aristocracy is Farsos are variations of the name Hill?'

'If you insist I'll go with you.'

'I do insist. I'll see you later Jon.'

She then left and Jon was now allowed to leave the cell and went straight back to the barracks. His Troop had quarters inside of it with numerous bunk beds for the men and a side room for himself. When he entered the quarters he intended to go straight to his room and start polishing his dress boots, expecting most of the men to be out. However, just before he reached the door he noticed that he wasn't alone, Corporal Donley was sitting on his bunk, looking a bit worse for wear, unshaven and hair in a mess.

'Are you alright Donley?'

'The MP's questioned all of us for about three hours.'

'Those bloody black coats love questioning men for doing their job. Why aren't you at the mess?'

'You see sir,' he said and stood up, a bit shaky on his feet, 'me and the others whe helped you out, we want to thank you for taking the fall for us,' he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. 'This is for you sir.'

Jon took the bottle and read the lable, "Grandle Whisky".

'Thank you Donley,' he said to the man and shook his hand before going into his room.

 **AN: So, Ned Stark isn't wounded, the Imp has been seized and a gunfight on the streets of the capital. What is the King of Farsos planning and what will be the next move of the Farosi? Find out next time.**

 **So, I hope you all liked this chapter, I enjoyed writing it myself and I may or may not have been watching Tombstone when I did it. So, please review or Favourite this story. Thank you for reading.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Pinoy Gamer: I'm afraid it's a bit more sinister than smuggling** **. As for the guy, I'm not sure if you meant the men Arya saw underground in the armoury or the Nights Watch guy at the end, the Night Watchman was Yoren from Season 1 and 2. As for the men underground, don't the Military Police uniform descriptions look familiar?**

 **Frost5: Interesting ideas about what the weapons underground are for. Also, a brilliant example of a less well equipped army winning over a modern one is Prestonpans from 1745 where a Jacobite Army was able to defeat the government army in just under half an hour. As for the role of the armoury, we will see.**

 **Tertius711: We shall see. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Due to matters at uni the next chapter may be delayed a bit but I will try my best to get it up on time.**

 **Keep the reviews coming and thank you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

 **AN: So, sorry for the slight delay. For the record, this chapter was originally going to be two, the first part and the ball sequance were meant to be seperate chapters but one was far too short so I decided to just merge them into one big chapter, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Also, at the risk of sparking controversy, I have to say it here. I do not believe in R+L=J, at least in the books. I believe that there is more evidence to suggest that he is the son of Ned and Ashara Dayne. Also, GRR Martin never actually told D and D that they were right about guessing the heritage, apparently he just smiled when they gave their answer. I think that Martin knew that the show would reveal Jon's parentage before he could get there in the books so he decided to do this as one giant red herring to double the impact of the reveal in the books. I basically agree with the Order of the Greenhand guys on Youtube so I suggest you watch their stuff.**

 **For the purposes of this story though I will stick to R+L=J being canon though for the sake of simplicity.**

Chapter Seven

The Puzzle and the Ball

Ned Stark was meeting with Lord Varys again, did he trust the eunuch? Not completely, but did he need the man? Of course he did. It was the early hours of the evening about a week after the skirmish between his men, Lannister and Jon's Troopers.

'I'm glad that the King asked you to remain as Hand afterall,' Varys began the discussion.

'The Queen wanted to have me killed for it,' he responded. 'It's not safe here.'

'This city has never been safe Lord Stark but you are needed here. For the sake of the whole of the realm.'

'I know.'

'With the Imp being taken my little birds have sung a song. Tywin Lannister has called his banners but I think he has been planning on it for a while anyway.;

'Why?'

'The rifles you bought from the Farosi, from what I've heard your son has been building up a formidible force with them. He's even hired some former Farosi soldiers to train up the new recruits.'

'He's done as I've ordered.'

'I understand that Lord Tywin is furious that the North has an army of riflemen giving them a massive advantage over his own men.'

'If he's worried then why doesn't just buy them.'

'That's an interesting idea Lord Stark. The rifles were here for weeks before the princess headed north to Winterfell and Lord Tywin sent men to negotiate to buy them, he offered five times the money for them but the princess turned him down.'

'Why?'

'She's turning you into her puppet, Lord Stark.'

'I doubt it. Princess Radwen is an intelligent young woman, I have no doubt that when she becomes Queen of Farsos her people will prosper.'

'She delibertly armed the North while shafting Tywin Lannister. She made him afraid of the North and now your wife had made him angry, his house looks vulnrable and he needs to strike back.'

'You think he's about to make a move against us?'

'Against you to be precise. We both know that the Lannisters always pay their debts and this is quite a debt to be repaid.'

'And of all the times to go hunting, Robert chooses now.'

'It leaves you with the power to act in his place for now,' Varys told him. 'Do you want to deal with Lord Tywin now or wait until he's struck already?'

'The king will not allow me to move against him, after what my wife has done he won't tolerate it.'

'So you have to wait until Lord Tywin strikes first and even then he can still claim that it was in response over what happened to Lord Tyrion.'

'I know and that's the problem. I'm going to guess that you already know what I've ordered.'

He nodded his head and Ned resisted the urge to sigh. In this damn city eveyone knew what everyone was doing, it was impossible to even walk down a corridor without half a dozen spies seeing him.

'Advising your son to move south with his army is a risky move. If anything it won't make Lord Tywin back down, it will just provoke him.'

'I don't plan on making him back down, I want to defeat him quickly if a war breaks out.'

'A quick defeat to limit the catastrophe of war?'

'That's right. I want this war over as soon as possible and not have it drag on forever.'

'Are you sure you can do that?'

'We live in an age where the greatest knight wearing the finest armour and the greatest Valyrian sword can be killed by a peasant armed with just a rifle. Of course I can win.'

'You are not including the Farosi in your work,' said Varys. 'Their embassy is probably the only place in this city where I know nothing.'

'I thought your birds flew in all corners of the world.'

'Except in Farsos and their embassy. A week before you arrived Lord Stark Colonel Donnah arrived at the Red Keep to speak with me. Do you know Colonel Donnah?'

'I saw him once,' he answered, not interested in the Spiders problems.

'He came to this castle and with him he brought a basket. After telling me not to spy on the Farosi he upturned the basket and poured out the hands of my spies who had been in the embassy or the Farosi District.'

'Their hands?' he asked, now concerned.

'Their hands. I made a mistake, I underestimated the Military Police. Do you know anything about them?'

'Jon said that policemen in Farsos uphold the law, enforce their kings peace. The Military Police must do that to the army, I would have guessed.'

'That was my mistake. One of fmy birds told me more, that some of them are spies and special agents who perform some of the most dangerous or important missions. You can tell them apart by thir uniforms, the men responsible for enforcing military law have silver cuffs on their coats, the agents have gold cuffs. Tell me, who would command so many dangerous men?'

'Someone who is very well trained and ruthless.'

'Exactly. The Farosi should not be counted as allies, they do not care about the realm, they care about themselves and their obsession with Gwaithol.'

'The were at war for fifteen years, of course they are concerned about Gwaithol but I need every ally I can hope to find.'

'You're playing a dangerous game Lord Stark. The Farosi should not be trusted until we know what they want. Right now your bastard is getting ready to dance with their princess while young Sansa reads their books and news sheets. Every day I walk through the streets and I see cobblers going out of business because they can't keep up with the supply of cheap foreign boots flooding the markets and many smiths are trying to make their own crude firelocks. Men are buying Farosi gowns for their wives while dressing in top hats and waist coats, a quarter of the gold cloaks are armed with shotguns and small ships land at the city in the middle of the night and vanish before anyone can stop them.'

'Small ships?'

'Yes, one of my little birds got close enough to see some of them and saw men in top hats and black coats unloading wooden crates before taking them into the tunnels under the city.'

'Military Police,' Ned said, wondering what this meant. 'Why would they be involved in smuggling.'

'I don't know. The Farosi are good at covering their tracks. Another time the same bird sung to me a song of seeing a large number of men come ashore in the boat and then were led into the tunnels.'

This made Ned think, the armoury that Arya saw, but should he inform the Spider? He needed the help of the Farosi but if they were really using him, playing him as a piece on the board, it would be good to have a "friend" in the Spider.

'Thos gives me a headache,' Ned groaned.

'I know it does. It's like trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces.'

'You say that like you enjoy it.'

He didn't answer, instead he just stood up and left, leaving Ned by himself as he tried to work out what to do about this, the king would leave to go hunting in the morning, he had been eager to use his new toy, an ornate shotgun presented as a gift from the King of Farsos by Princess Radwen, the words of House Baratheon and its sigil on the butt and the barrel carved with an intricate pattern of hunters pursuing a boar through a forest. He spent about an hour a day in one of the courtyards shooting at clay pots being thrown by Lancel Lannisters but now he was getting ready to use it for the first time to kill an animal, and of course he was dragging Renly and Ser Barristan along.

...

Jon adored his uniform, it was comfortable, perfect for any weather, be it hot or cold, but in winter they would wear a heavy coat as well, and was hard wearing for service in any part of the army. Both branches of the cavalry, the infantry and the engineers all wore the same uniform, all made in the smae way but with only a few small differences, such as spurs on teh boots of the cavalry. The same could not be said for his dress uniform which he was convinced was made as a punishment for him for some unknown crime.

The dress uniform had a very tight fitting dark blue jacket with gold epullates on the shoulders, a high tight collar, white trousers which, like the shirt, felt too tight and knee high boots, both polished, and a gold braid went across his chest. Under his arm he held his cocked hat and around his waist was a dark blue sash, although slightly lighter than his jacket. He stood outside of the Princesses private rooms in the embassy and knocked on the door with a white gloved hand.

'Who is it?' asked one of the maids.

'Lieutenant Snow.'

A moment later the door opened and the maid allowed him in.

'Her Highness says that she will be with you in a few moments.'

'Good.'

Jon stood there with his hands behind his back and looked at the room, the floors were wooden and a warm carpet covered most of it. The fireplace was birning brightly and above it hung a portrait of His Majesty. Several chairs were sat close to the fire and a low table was close to one, a book on the history of the Westerlands was sitting on it with a marker in one of the early pages.

'Are you there Jon?' Radwen asked from behind the door of her bedroom.

'Yes Your Highness.'

'Excellent,' I'm sorry we're taking so long but a princess must look her best at these events.'

'Of course. Celebrating your fathers ascension anniversary must keep you busy.'

'It does, unfortunately most of that time is taken up by, no dear, the blue one, most of that time is taken up by getting dressed. You know, yes that one, you know it's most unbecoming of Prince Joffrey to refuse the invitation.'

'I agree.'

'Then again I'm not unhappy he's not coming. Knowing him he would have probably tried to smash the bottles over a servatns head.'

'Of course he would.'

'There we are. Alright I'm coming out, let me know what you think.'

The door opened and Radwen, followed be her maids, entered the living room, although Jon barely noticed the other women. Radwen had discarded her usual blue dresses for one of the deepest royal purple, made from many layers of thin silk and it was bustled with a slight train, her dress was also unusually low cut for Radwen, the straps were just off her shoulders and long purple gloves made from velvet went up past her elbows, a few rings adorned hr fingers over the gloves. Her hair was styled so it was gathered on top of her head and a fringe hung just above her eyes. She had selected some jewelry to wear, a necklace made of gold with dozens of small amethyst stones and similar earrings but the crowining achievement was her tiara, gold and had a single large purple stone set into it. She was the image of royalty.

Suddenly remembering his manners Jon bowed as Radwen aproached.

'Judging by the colour of your cheeks you approve,' she said with a chuckle.

'You are dressed perfectly Your Highness.'

'Thank you Jon, so are you. Although we should get you some medals soon,' she turned to face one of the maids. 'Go and tell them that Lieutenant Snow and I will be there soon.'

She curtsied and hurried off.

'Nervous?' she asked Jon.

'Not really.'

'I am,' she said and went to a table by the window with two glasses and a small silver jug were sat. 'Quick drink?'

'Of course,' he agreed.

'Arbor Gold,' she said and poured it out, filling both glasses, one of which Jon picked up.

'And what are we toasting to?'

'To a succesful evening,' she replied and their glasses clinked together before they drank one of the best wines in the Seven Kingdoms.

'Thank you for asking me to be your partner tonight.'

'It was either you or Colonel Donnah.'

'Really?'

'Probably. I imagine the newspaper men will have a field day with this one, dashing young cavalryman acosts Her Highness at the ball to celebrate her fathers ascension anniversary.'

'They make half of their stories up.'

'I know, still, they'll insist on a photograph tonight.'

'With me as well?'

'I hope so, after all, you went through all this trouble of having your uniform cleaned.'

'I suppose so.'

'Well, no need to keep them waiting any more Jon,' she offered him her hand and he accepted it.

He took it and then they left her rooms and walked through the embassy until they reached the reception room which was now being used as a ballroom. From the domed roof hung a crystal chandilier which shone like stars, around the walls stood members of the Royal Guard in full armour but instead of rifles they carried their symbolic halberds. The room was filled with several dozen men and women and a band sat on a platform in one corner. Jon and Radwen entered the room by the grand staircase, made of polished stone and with ornate hand rails, when they began to walk down the band began to play the national anthem of Farsos, a few steps from the bottom of the stairs Radwen stopped and so did Jon. At that moment he glanced across the room spotted Sam standing with a group of other officers dressed in their best.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' Radwen said to everyone there, 'I'm truly honoured to see so many of you gathered here this evening. Five thousand one hundred and fifty years ago, Cassius Sea Walker led his people across the waters seeking for a new home, fleeing from whatever happened to his home and his kin in Westeros. His dynasty continues to this day in my father, tonight we celebrate the twenty fifth year of his glorious reign. Long live the King!'

'Long live the king,' everyone within echoed

'Now the formalities out of the way, let's begin. Music I insist.'

Everyone cleared the centre of the room as Jon and Radwen walked into the middle of it as a traditional piece of dancing music began to slowly play. Remembering his dancing lessons at the academy, now he was grateful for them, he took Radwen by the waist and they began to slowly dance. It was very formal, Jon couldn't say he was enjoying himself, he kept minding his feet and where he kept his hand, certainly not wanting to go too far down her back. As they danced they were close, very close Jon thought to himself as they spun and moved across the dance floor, hoping that he wouldn't step on Radwen's toes the whole time. The final notes of the song came by and Jon stepped away from Radwen, she took a step from him, he bowed and she curtsied as the music stopped and the crowd around them gave a polite applause.

'Thank the True Queen that went well,' Radwen said quietly as they walked off the dance floor, the next song started playing and the other officers and gentlemen with partners began to dance.

'Agreed,' Jon replied.

'Although, you did step on my foot once,' she told him and they walked to the edge of the room where they each got a glass of Arbor Gold.

'I'm sorry Your Highness but if I spent the whole dance looking at your feet people would think I had a problem.'

'Very specific problems by the sound of it,' she said with a thin smile and took a sip of her drink. 'You dance well for a soldier, normally you dance on the battlefield.'

'I try my best to keep in practice.'

'I'm certainly happy to hear that. Now, I have to go and speak with some boring old men, you go and talk to the rest of the officers.'

'I'll see you later then Your Highness,' he said and bowed politely before joining a group of officers, Sam, Lieutenant Gorrik, a lean officer from the infantry and Captain Lowhill, his direct superior in the company.

Lowhill was popular with the men for turning a blind eye to their antics while off duty. While this was good for his popularity it didn't help the reputation the Light Horse had for a lack of discipline.

'Sir,' he said to Lowhil.

'Snow, I see you actually managed to find a girl to bring along,' the man joked, 'or rather a girl managed to bring you along.'

Jon chuckled at that, as did Sam.

'I see you failed to come with any girl though,' Jon shot back.

'Maybe, that just means I don't need anyone to try and drag me away from the drinks trays.'

'Speaking of which,' Sam pointed out as a waitress walked by with a silver tray of deep red drinks.

Sam and Lowhill aquired drinks and took sips of them, Lowhill grimacing a bit.

'You know, I wish Her Highness would have got us some real drinks. No offence you two, but I can't stand this stuff.'

'I like it,' said Jon and finished his drink.

'You were brought up here Snow. I'm the youngest son of the Duke of Great Mine, Farsos in in my blood, and my taste of liquor.'

'Gentlemen,' said Lieutenant Hoaren, a fellow officer of Light Horse, 'may I join you?'

'Of course Mister Hoaren,' responded Lowhill.

'Thank you sir. Have any of you seen the latest newspaper?'

'All the papers we get here are weeks old at best,' said Lowhill. 'Is it important?'

'Surprisingly yes. The Lord Senator's resigned.'

'What?' Jon and Lowhill asked at the same time.

'He's had the job since the end of the war,' Lowhill continued. 'Why would he quit now?'

'No idea,' Hoaren answered him. 'The paper said it was for health reasons.'

'In other words he got sacked,' Jon concluded. 'Don't they normally say it's for their health when they're really being dismissed?'

'Well done Snow,' Lowhill nodded before looking back at Hoaren. 'Whose the new Lord Senator?'

'Lord Wemmerford.'

'Wemmerford? Ah yes, the man who led the evacuation of Corrino.'

'That was the last major action of the war,' Sam remembered.

'Correct. My father was there, commanded the rearguard as the rest of the army escaped to Corrino.'

They knew that his father didn't make it out, none of the rearguard did, but they fought in the fields outside of Corrino and then they fought through the streets, armed with unloaded muskets and pikes against thousands of Gaithol's soldiers.

'In that case the new Lord Senator should be good at his job,' said Hoaren. 'A man with that much experience in the army should be talanted enough.'

Jon wasn't too concerned, while Radwen may have wanted him to pay attention to the political theatre Jon was planning to try to avoid all that, focus on his career as a soldier.

'The Western Line's also finished at last,' Hoaren added.

'Excellent,' Sam said eagerly and Jon smiled knowingly.

After arriving at the academy together Sam had developed a fascination with steam engines and the Steam Locs, the locomotives which travelled on steel rails across Farsos. The west coast of Farsos had been one of the most isolated parts of the kingdom since it had been brought into the fold a century earlier, the coast line dotted with hundreds of small fishing villages and a few larger ports which greeted merchants from the eastern coat of Essos. King Lukon, after ordering the reforms which rebuilt the Farosi army and navy, had formed a plan to build two new railway lines, one stretching north to south along the west coast and another conneting it to Cety, the largest railway hub in the kingdom. He had poured a lot of money into building up the largest of the western ports, Genston, into a small city and now many merchants from Essos visited and it served as the base of the the Western Fleet. Sam had followed the development of the railway during their time at the academy.

'At least the people at Genston don't need to go the whole way back home by carriage any more,' said Lowhill, he wasn't very concerned with the railway in the west. 'As long as the southern line keeps running I'm happy.'

'There's only one problem with it though,' Sam realised. 'Hundreds of railway engineers are going to be out of a job.'

'They'll find work somewhere,' Lowhill commented before the conversation went down into the usual troubles of officers, keeping the men happy, weapons drill and other matters.

...

Eventually Jon decided to leave the party for a few moments, walking away from the ballroom and into a side corridor, well lit with candles, Radwen hadn't been able to arrange gas lighting for the embassy yet, and the walls were lined with paintings. Jon remembered that this was called the History Gallery, all the paintings covered important moments in the history of Farsos. Jon walked along looking at them, one displayed King Harkin the Second, a mighty man clad in mail and plate, standing before fifty men, the first ever meeting of the Senate over four and a half thousand years ago. Another, the Battle of the Ice Woods with Prince Harmel, son of Harkin and the future Harmel the First, about to land the killing blow upon Garen the Red, the King of Iron Watch with a massive war axe he took from an Iron Watchmen's corpse. He continued walking until he reached a portrait of the Battle of Windy Moor, a line of halberdeers in yellow cloaks standing alongside men with the first firelocks fighting against the Tiger Cultists who ruled that land. Cety was built close to the battlefield a few years later. Finally he reached the largest painting, an image of a hillside by the sea divided in two halves, on one side stood a group of warriors in jet black armour with purple sashes across their chests and armed with halberds, one of them carrying a massive golden banner with a black gryffon at its heart, leading them was a broad shouldered man with a wheel lock pistol at his belt and a sword in his hand. Across from them stood a large number of pikemen, one man carried a banner just as large as the first but dark blue with a rearing unicorn. In front of the soldiers was a young woman in a green dress and a circlet upon her head, her hand gently held out towards the man.

'I never thought of you as an admirer of art,' said Radwen as she entered the gallery.

'I just wanted to get away from the party for a minute. I'm used to being sat away from the party, not much to being close to the centre of it.'

'I suppose so,' she said as she came to stand next to him. 'I just needed a moment away from from the uniforms and moustaches.'

'I thought you of all people would be used to that, I mean, you are a princess, you've grown up around all of it.'

'Not really. When I was a girl it looked like I'd become a priestess of the True Queen but then Simoki ran off to fight his rebellion and Miccal signed off his right to the throne leaving me. Suddenly I find myself, a thriteen year old, being sent to study economics, history, military strategy and political theory when just a week earlier I was learning how to not drop a thurible.'

'It must have been a shock.'

'That's an understatement Jon. I was terrified, I had no idea what I was doing and there were times I thought my father would force Miccal back into the succession.'

'How did you manage to stay on top of it all?'

'A lot of stubborness. By the time I was sixteen my father decided that I need some hands on experience so he sent me here.'

'Do you like your job, I mean, your the ambassador to the Iron Throne, the symbol of Farosi power here.'

'True, this place has its charms. Oh, this painting, do you like it?'

'I've never been interested in art.'

'You at least know what it is?'

'Of course. It's the Day of Union, when King Carr the Fourth agreed to marry Duchess Gerina of Serdera.'

'It was the birth of our United Kingdom. The Gryffon of House Cassius and the Unicorn of Serdera united as one. The United Kingdom of Farsos.'

'Their union changed everything.'

'Indeed it did. My ancestors are all around us right now, all of it leading to me and the day I ascend to the Emerald Throne.'

'You love history don't you?'

'My family history yes. For people like us though our family history is just history in general isn't it?'

'I suppose it is. Still, I'm a bastard, I'm free to make my own path.'

'Your father may not have married your mother but I really don't care about that. You're still the son of the Warden of the North, and an officer of His Majesties army. Me, well, I'm the heir to the Emerald Throne. I've learned so much about my families past, it's incredible what you can find.'

Jon heard the music in the ball room stop and he looked to Radwen again who was studying the image of Duchess Gerina, they had the same hair colour, Jon noticed.

'I think the next dance will be starting soon.'

'Yes of course,' she said. 'Just promise me you won't step on my toes again.'

'I try Radwen,' he said jokingly as she chuckled just a little.

'You should have shown more attention at your dancing lessons at the academy.'

'I paid more attention to riding, shooting and fencing lessons.'

'Boys will be boys I suppose. Still, the next dance is a Woren Waltz, do you know it?'

'I remember it I think.'

'You think?'

'I remember it but, like I said, I was focused on things a soldier needs to know.'

'Alright then, we'd better have a quick practice then,' she said and held out her hands for Jon to take.

Jon did so as he tried to remembered how this dance was done. Radwen mostly kept him on track for how this was done, with their hands held they took a few steps around until they both stepped forwards, Jon placing his right hand on her back and keeping her right hand in his left. They moved slowly, more swaying than anything else, and Jon now noticed the colour of her eyes properly, they were blue with a few flakes of green. They gently swayed back and forth for a few moments in silence, _this isn't how this dance goes,_ Jon realised but he didn't say anything. The two stood still for moment after moment until Radwen moved closer to him and Jon, the scent of the princesses perfume hanging in the air around them, planted a quick and heated kiss on her lips. When he moved his face away he saw Radwen's wide eyes first and worry started creeping into him as he remembered Article 21 of Officer Regulations. "No officer of His Majesties Army shall in any way coerce a woman nor force himself upon a woman."

'Your Highness, I'm sorry if I,' he said as he began to move away, about to remove his hand from her back when Radwen's own hand tightened on his and her other touched his shoulder.

'Jon,' she said and smiled, almost looking relieved, 'I thought I'd have to draw you a diagram.'

'What?'

Radwen moved onto her toes and kissed Jon who, relieved at not being in trouble now pulled Radwen a little closer to him and responded in kind with a kiss. Eventually he kissed her on the neck and then on the shoulder, Jon glad that he heard a soft sigh from Radwen.

'Alright Jon,' she said before they kissed once more. 'We need to get back to the ball or we'll be missed.'

'Alright,' he said before making a coy smile. 'I think I'm glad we got some practice.'

'Me too,' she said with a chuckle, looking down at the floor for a moment before composing herself and brushing a little of her makeup off of Jon's jacket.

 **AN: So, early speculation about a romance between Jon and Radwen is proven correct. What did everyone think? I will be the first to admit that I am not the best at writing romance but I do my best.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Pinoy Gamer: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope this one was just as entertaining. Thanks for the review.**

 **Knight8: True, Tyrion makes mistakes but he's a decent man at heart. Interesting idea about Farosi knowledge of Jon's family history but what you have to remember is that Farsos has only been involved with Westerosi affairs since the Greyjoy Rebellion.**

 **Nestor1000: Now that's a great idea for a story, interesting as well.**

 **ATP: Hello again. Well she was certainly interested in him but as to knowing about his heritage, I won't reveal any future details about the story other than hints to stir up ideas.**

 **Guest: Cheers.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

 **AN: Next chapter! This one has been fun to write and I hope you like it.**

 **Also, I forgot to write this in the last chapter so I should do it now. The world has lost one of its greatest, a man of true imagination who has defined generations of us. Stan Lee was a great man, he will never be forgotten. We must also remember one thing. While there are people in this world who truly believe in heroes he will never be gone, not really. Rest in peace Stan.**

Chapter Eight

The Stag Falls

It was in the early evening as Jon sat in Princess Radwen's private rooms finishing his assesment on his NCO's. It had been some days since their first kiss at the embassy and since then they'd kept it quiete, Radwen had only told her most trusted Ladies Maids while Jon had told his father and Arya, he hadn't told Sansa because he was certain that if she knew she'd be dancing around the Red Keep singing about it. His fathers reaction was a smile and a warning to not do anything to dishonour the princess, which Jon promised him he wouldn't. When he told Arya however her response was laughter, after he explained that he wasn't joking and that he was now "courting" _Gods I hate that word,_ the princess she laughed again.

'What's so funny?' he asked her.

'What will my mother do when she finds out that you're "courting" a princess?'

She then laughed again and Jon joined her at the thought of Lady Stark realising that he could have a match higher than anything any of her own children could gain, except for Sansa with Joffrey, and he hated where that line of thought led, Sansa being forced to be with that little prick. Still though, one problem at a time, he had to finish this and hand it in to Captain Lowhill by the next morning.

'Shouldn't you have done that earlier?' asked Radwen who was sitting opposite him on her large settee while doing her own paper work, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose.

'Probably. I think rules and regulations are made just to annoy the younger officers.'

'Don't worry,' she said as she signed something and removed her glasses, 'when you've had a few premotions you can give all the boring work to one of your lieutenants.'

'Can't wait then,' he replied as he finished his report on Corporal Donley. 'Well, next time a position's available Donley's getting promoted.'

'Good, so he can give his paper work to the next corporal.'

'Exactly,' was his response as he reached for the mug of beer on the low table between them and took a long drink of it.

'When are you expected in the officers mess?' Radwen asked him now they were both finished their work.

Jon pulled out his pocket watch to check.

'An hour, if my watch hasn't broken again.'

'Again?'

'It's a cheap one, I bought it just after I got off the ship at First Sight, a peddler was selling them on the docks.'

'Let me see it.'

Jon handed it to her, the casing was made of brass and was badly scuffed by years of hard use on exercises and patrols.

'You really should get a new one. You're an officer after all, not a smithy,' she said and passed it back to him.

'I know but I like this watch. What were you working on anyway?'

'Just singning an authorisation for something top secret that I am under no circumstances allowed to tell you at the moment.'

'So what was it?'

Radwen chuckled and shook her head.

'Alright, it's called the Lannisport, Kings Landing Line. When His Grace returns from his little hunting trip I'll be presenting the plans to him.'

'You mean a railway line?'

'Exactly. Look, our merchants have to sail all the way around Westeros to get either here or the Free Cities. That takes weeks and costs a lot of money so, our idea is to have a permenant merchant fleet here in Kings Landing, have ships directly from Farsos dock at Lannisport and travel over land by train here and then on to the Free Cities. It will cut weeks off of the travel time and save us a lot of money.'

'You want to build a railway across the country?'

'Well it's the First Senator of Trade's idea to be honest. It's going to start at Lannisport and follow the Gold Road here, we'll build up the villages along the way into stations, it's going to cost a fortune.'

'Can the kingdom afford it?'

'Of course, besides, the kingdom isn't paying for it.'

'It isn't?'

'No, the Senate is going to allow businessmen to bid for the rights to do it and they'll be paying for it, in exchange they get a tenth of the profits from trade for the next fifteen years.'

'I hope it all goes according to plan.'

'It should do,' she said and took a sip of her wine. 'So, anyway, you have about an hour.'

'I do,' was his response as Jon moved to sit next to Radwen.

'Good.'

The two of them sat there for a moment until Jon moved first and kissed Radwen who responded by wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Feeling a little emboldened Jon held her tight quickly moved her so that she was under him.

'Rogue,' she chided him but then kissed Jon again.

Jon wouldn't go any further than this, the last thing he wanted to do was do anything that could get either of them in trouble. However, after only a few minutes of this the door knocked and Radwen sighed in annoyance. Jon got up quickly and returned to his seat while Radwen at up and straightened her blouse.

'Who is it?' she asked.

'Captain Howmer Your Highness.'

'Enter.'

The commander of Radwen's company of Royal Guardsmen, like all of them, was over six feet tall with neat hair and a large moustache. He wore a dark purple uniform and peaked cap, none of the black armour they wore at important occasions, and a revolver was at his waist. He briefly aknowledged Jon with a nod before facing Princess Radwen.

'I'm sorry to disturb you Your Highness, but your meeting with Mister Greenwood needs to be rescheduled.'

'For when?' she asked, hiding her disapointment.

'Ten minutes, his doctor had to reschedule an appointment which you can thank for the change.'

'I see. Alright, tell him I'll see him.'

Howmer bowed before leaving the room, as soon as he shut the door behind him Radwen rolled her eyes.

'Is the True Queen planning on ruining our private time?'

'Probably,' Jon chuckled. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

'Alright.'

...

The rest of the evening went fairly quietly, the officers mess was alway entertaining though, Jon got dragged into playing the Duke Game, a challenge where he had to repeat a ridiculous phrase with a slight variation over and over again while drinking a lot of whisky. He just managed to make his way though it, although he had a feeling he'd have a head ache the next morning. The only odd thing that happened was when a Military Policeman came in just before the end of their dinner and went straight up to sam.

'Lieutenant Tarly?'

'Yes Sergeant?' he asked the man.

'There's a situation at the Red Keep, Colonel Donnah has requested your presence.'

'What's happened?'

'I don't know sir but Colonel Donnah insists that you come with me now.'

'Alright,' he turned to Jon, 'I'll see you in the morning.'

'See you in the morning Sam.'

After he left and the officers finished their meal Jon proceded back to his troops barracks and, after watching the ending of his card game where Trooper Hensin managed to beat Corporal Donley and Sergeant Osoni, to their annoyance, managing to win half a months pay. After that he bid them all good night and then he went into his side room, got changed into his night shirt, left that days uniform in the washing basket for the cleaner to deal with in the morning before climbing into the bed.

When he awoke it was to the stand to signal being given the bugler, for a moment he wondered who wakes up the bugler, when he realised that the sun wasn't up yet, it was still dark. He opened his windows shutters and looked outside to see the horizon just turning pink with morning, usually the call didn't come for at least another hour.

'Is this a joke?' he asked himself as he put on a burgandy dressing gown and entered the main room where his troopers were getting out of bed.

'What's that damn bugler lad doing?' Osoni growled. 'If this is a prank I'll dip my shaving tin in his rum.'

'No idea Sergeant. Get the men dressed, we have twenty minutes to be armed and on parade.'

'Yes sir,' he said and grunted as he came to stand up before addressing the men. 'You all heard the Lieutenant! Dressed in ten minutes, armed in fifteen and on parade in twenty. Move it!'

Jon nodded and walked back into his room where he quickly started to get dressed, finding a clean uniform in his wardrobe and put it on before adding his belt with sword and revolver. When his hat was on he entered the main room as the rest of the men started leaving towards the armoury. Jon walked with his men of course, the corridors were packed with hundreds of men, all of them looking tired and annoyed. The armoury was soon visited, the men acquired their carbines and sabres before marching out into the embassy gardens where they formed up into parade formation.

'Alright men, Troop,' Jon began to order, 'atten, shun!'

The men carried out the order.

'Stand at ease!'

Again his men followed him while the other Lieutenants gave the same orders to their Troops and Platoons, the higher officers watching, all waiting for news. Jon and Osoni came to stand on the right side of their Troop as the front doors of the Embassy opened and Radwen, escorted by two of the Royal Guard in their black armour and rifles in hand, emerged. She was soon followed by Brigadier Curn, the commander of the Embassies garrison, and Colonel Donnah, looking very tired and now wearing a pair of revolvers as well as a leather coat which reached past his knees.

'It's an MP battle coat,' Jon muttered to himself.

'You're right sir. This is trouble.'

Radwen was wearing one of her dark blue dresses, although this one was very simple and must have been put on very quickly. Jon then noticed that Sam was walking behind Donnah, his face as white as a sheet. Radwen came to stand in front of the men, for a moment looking at them all, her eyes stopping on Jon and he saw a side of her he hadn't seen before, it was nervous and ready for action.

'Gentlemen,' she said loud and clear, 'I'm sorry to have disturbed your beauty sleep but this couldn't have waited until later. In short, King Robert has been injured in a hunting accident. In short, it appears that within the next day there will be a regime change here, for that we must remain on full alert, we all know what happens during these times and I will not have any Farosi businessmen or civilians harmed by these people. Brigadier Curn.'

The officer, stocky and muscular with no neck, stepped forwards and spoke loudly.

'All infantrymen will pratrol the streets in shifts, Light Horsemen will remain in the Embassy and act as a tactical reserve. If the Westerosi bring their quarral to these streets, shoot on sight.'

He ordered the troops out and, after his men took up positions on the embassy's walls, he went out to find Sam who was sitting on the porch of the embassy's main building.

'What happened?'

'The King's dying,' was his answer.

'How?'

'Last night I was taken up to the Red Keep where Colonel Donnah told me that His Grace was hunting a bore when his shotgun exploded.'

'How? Wait, no, why were you brought up there?'

'At the academy I did a course on ballistics and fire arm maintenance. That made me qualified to work out what went wrong.'

'How did it explode then?'

'I talked to Ser Barristan, he was there, and he says that it was in constant use and the kings squire didn't get a chance to clean it. I think the build up of debris and the heating up of the barrel caused a shell to warp out of shape and then it turned the gun into a bomb.'

'Damn. This is why we don't let any idiot buy a gun in Farsos.'

'In fairness we did give his Grace a maintenance book,' said Sam. 'I wish he actually read it.'

'How badly was he hurt?'

'It's bad. Shards of the barrel and the bullet into his face and chest, his right hand was blown clean off and three of the fingers on the left are gone.'

'How long does he have?'

'A day at most. One of our surgeon's is helping but all they can do is keep him comfortable.'

'Damn. Now we have to deal with Joffrey on the throne.'

'Apparently the king made your father regent before they gave him milk of the poppy.'

'I see. He might be able to break Sansa's betrothal.'

'I hope so. I've not met Prince Joffrey before but from what you've said I don't ike the idea of your sister marrying him.'

'That makes two of us.'

The two stood up at once to see Radwen standing close by, a cup of tea in her hand.

'Your Highness,' the two men said to her.

'Jon, I need to speak with you, in private.'

'Of course.'

He bid goodbye to Sam and followed Radwen back into the embassy, past Royal Guardsmen at every corner, and finally entered Radwen's rooms where they entered her study, Radwen sitting behind her desk and Jon sitting in the chair in front of it.

'Well, you know what's happened.'

'Of course.'

'It wasn't a question Jon. The point is that we need to move quickly.'

'Of course. The Queen will probably use this to force my father to give all the power to Joffrey and make the Lannisters all powerful in the Seven Kingdoms.'

'You're learning Jon, but I was thinking of a different matter.'

'What different matter?'

'Jon, I want you to know something. Everything I've said to you has been true, I wanted to tell you everything, even more so since the ball, but I couldn't.'

Now he started to worry.

'What's going on?'

'Jon,' she sighed and shook her head. 'I have to tell you now. We have to act fast to secure House Cassius's claim to the Iron Throne.'

The silence between them wal all powerful, stronger than iron, as Jon tried to keep down his shock.

'What?'

'You heard me right. All of this has been done to secure the claim of my family to rule Westeros.'

'You lied to me. You told me,' he said and stood up, angrily turning away from Radwen before facing her again and pointing his finger towards her, 'you told me that you would support House Stark, that we woud fight together!'

'I said that it was in the interest of House Casius and House Stark to form an alliance and I meant that.'

'An alliance to do what? Install your father on the Iron Throne when he has no right being there?'

'He has every right to be there. Can you really say that Westeros would be better under Lannister rule than my fathers?'

'There won't be Lannister rule. My father will do what he can to stop the Queen from controlling Joffrey.'

'Really? Your father is a good man but right now he's lost. The City Watch already support the Lannisters, his household guard are outnumbered.'

'So are you. In the open field we have every advantage but in this city it will be hand to hand fighting. Our men don't have armour! You'll be slaughtered!'

'We have the numbers to win.'

'No you don't.'

'I have the Embassy guard, my Royal Guard, the Military Police and the rest of them.'

'What do you mean the rest of them?'

She gave a soft smile, the look of a gambler about to reveal their winning card.

'What did Arya see under the District?'

'What?' he asked, remembering that Arya told him. 'A large store room or something.'

'If she'd gone down a floor you know what she would have found. The secret barracks, with three thousand Farosi infantry.'

Now he was stunned. Three thousand extra men, with that they could take the city easily, it would be no contest.

'How long have they been there?'

'The last of them arrived a month ago. We predicted, by that I mean the Senate, predicted that soon their would be civil unrest in Westeros and it would be necassary to install House Cassius as the rulers of Westeros to protect the people of this realm.'

'So you've ben smuggling in an army?'

'Yes, for the greater good of Westeros.'

'House Cassius has no claim here!'

'Yes we do. It's old but it's valid. Besides, does that really matter?'

'Yes. What matters above all is who has the right to the throne, my father will never support someone with a claim so distant it may as well be made up.'

'And you think Robert and Rheagar were talking about rights when they fought at the Trident? No, Robert was stronger so he took the throne, the rest was just a matter of formalities. Do you know what will happen if Joffrey sits on the throne? Tywin Lannister will keep everything the same, the people will still be oppressed, Gregor Clegane can do whatever he wants and nothing changes.'

'You can't force your way onto the throne. How many will die in the war you'll start?'

'Many,' she said and slumped in her chair. 'I don't want war but it's the only choice we have,' she fixed her gaze on Jon and stood up. 'And when the killing is done, Westeros will be reborn. Every village will have a school, the roads will be rebuilt, every Dragon of the thrones debt will be repaid, railways will cross the country, factories will bring work for all. The National Code will be brought here, no more Lords gleefully cutting off thieves fingers, judges and juries will decide every case on a strict legal code. We'll tear down the ruins of the Dragonpit and build the Westerosi Senate Hall. Westeros will prosper.'

'And all of this is for the good of the people?' Jon sarcastically asked.

'For the good of both kingdoms,' she answered. 'When Gwaithol attacks us the might of Farsos and Westeros will fall on them. This lands knights will swell the ranks of the Heavy Horse, maybe another hundred thousand men will serve as infantry. When Gwaithol comes for us, we will drive them back to their home land and bring down their Grand Council forever.'

Jon and Radwen stood there, staring each other down and Jon was the first to drop his gaze. He knew what he had to do. Before he could speak Radwen walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

'There's something else. Another reason I was sent here was to make a physical link with Westeros, something that could make both lands true equals. My father instructed me to,' she looked at the floor, blushing slightly. 'He told me to find a husband, he told me I could make the choice myself as long as he was Westerosi and of noble blood. You are the son of the Warden of the North. If we marry, we will be King and Queen of the United Kingdom of Farsos and Westeros.'

Jon just looked at her, disbelief on his face.

'You've planned everything out haven't you?'

'Of course I have. Well, most of the planning was done by the Senate and the General Staff but yes, when you arrived here I looked up your record when I heard who your father was. The Warden of the North's son.'

'Bit I'm still a bastard. The Lords of Westeros would never accept a bastard as king.'

'They will accept you. In the fighting to come our army will not plunder or rape, they will only kill the enemy. Jon, trust me, this is for the best, for you and me, for Sansa, for Westeros as well.'

'You think that you can take Westeros with just the garrison here and the 8th Corps?'

'No, the 8th Corps can establish a foothold until reinforcements arrive.'

'It will take months for them to arrive.'

'They can survive until then and they can defeat any force that outnumbers them up to five to one.'

'What is this claim of your fathers? Is it even real?'

'Of course it's real.'

'Then expain it to me, what is this claim of yours?'

She appeared worried for a moment, indecisive but now she closed her eyes, let out a long breath.

'Fine, but you can't tell anyone else. If the Spider finds out the Lannisters will storm the embassy or fortify themselves in the Red Keep and that's the last thing I want.'

So she told him and when she did he just looked at her, not fully believing it for a moment but a look in Radwen's eyes convinced him that she was not lying.

'Alright. What do you want me to do?'

'Tell your father what I want to do, what will happen to Westeros under Farosi rule. Get him on our side, make him see reason.'

'I'll try my best but I can't promise anything. My father's a stubborn man.'

...

Her rooms in the embassy were luxurious, there was a living room, a study, a bedroom and her own small private chaptel. Like all chapels dedicated to the True Queen it faced towards water, in this case the Narrow Sea. In the east wall was a stained glass window, a little taller than Radwen was, bearing an image of the True Queen herself. The room was well lit with oil lanterns, displaying the small stone bench beneath the window and the objects on it. There were two small photographs sitting on it, one showing a man in a naval officers uniform, hat under his arm and hand holding the grip of his sheathed sword. The man himself was very thin and tall, his moustache was small and thin, almost like ink drawn in lines above his lips. The other picture was mud stained slightly, it was a miracle she had gotten it in the first place, and it displayed a man wearing a greatcoat staine with random muddy patterns, a breach loading rifle with a small telescope atttached to it in his hand and a wide brimmed hat on his head. He had grown a beard and was standing under a tropical tree.

'True Queen grant my brothers your blessings and your guidance wherever your kingdom meets the land. Grant me your blessings where your kingdom meets the land. Grant your soldiers your power wherever your kingdom meets the land. Grant us your protection in the dark days to come.'

She stood up again and walked into her living room, since that morning she had changed into a much more formal gown, it was just after midday according to her clock. It was strange, they were on the eve of war and there was nothing left for her to do. She herself didn't know how most of this had been planned out, she was the royal presence in Westeros but most of this had been planned out by Colonel Donnah. In political circles he was one of the most important assets, a silent work horse who desired neither power or fame for himself as long as the Kingdom prospered. In truth she didn't want to know how he did most of his work so she never bothered, instead she stuck to her job, a figurehead for the troops and, soon, the leader of the Westerosi Provisional Government.

The knock came from her door.

'Who is it?' she asked.

'Jon.'

'Come in then,' she said, the feeling of nerves in her were overpowering, if Ned Stark didn't agree they'd have to fight the North and she wasn't sure that Jon wouldn't join them. At least she had persuaded her father to supply them with older flintlock riles rather than the newer caplocks, if they had to fight the North the Farosi would still have the advantage.

Jon walked in and Radwen stood rooted to the spot, looking at Jon, waiting for him to just say something. The look on his face was completely neutral, no emotion whatsover.

'He's with us,' said Jon and Radwen let out a relieved sigh.

'Thank goodness,' she said and sat down, relief filling her.

'There's more though,' Jon told her and sat down on the opposite chair.

'What?'

'My father, he found out why Jon Arryn died.'

'Why then?'

'He found out that Joffrey and the other children, their not King Roberts.'

'What?' she asked, that was a surprise. 'Then whose the father?'

'The Kingslayer?'

Radwen had a bad feeling that her eyes were as wide as saucers after that revelation.

'What?'

'My father, he found out that no other Baratheon has ever been born with golden hair. Think about how cruel Joffrey is. Every time a Targaryen was born the Gods flipped a coin, this time it landed badly for the queen.'

'It makes a surprising amount of sense actually,' she said and shook her head slightly. 'We'll deal with all this once the king is dead. What's his condition?'

'He'll be dead by sunrise tommorow.'

'Then we just have to wait.'

'I'll go and rejoin my men.'

'Actually,' Radwen said and walked quickly into her study and retrieved a leather folder, 'I thought you should take a look at this.'

'What is it?' he asked as Radwen passed it to him.

'Our marriage contract,' she said, the words causing a strange feeling inside her.

Jon smiled, it was a small smile but it was there, as he opened it and read it.

'It looks good.'

'Also, we'll have to get you a promotion. I mean, a princess can't marry just a Lieutenant.'

'If you say so,' was his response as he closed the folder.

'I do say so. Now, we will need to make things official of course. We'll need an engagement party,' she said, trying to bury her excitement under her usual facade of formalities.

'Radwen,' he said to her, 'please, just relax.'

'Sorry Jon. It's just everything that's been happening, we're living in the days which will change everything.'

'For both of us.'

The two just sat there for a while, waiting.

 **AN: The King is dead, Long live the King! Which king though? Killed by an accident while hunting, or was he killed by incompetance or something far more sinister?**

 **The Farosi plan is revealed, House Cassius now plans to sit on the Iron Throne and many plans are afoot.**

 **The Duke Game by the way, which Jon was roped into playing in the mess, is this worlds equivilent of the Cardinal Puff game, watch the game from Dad's Army Episode "Fallen Idol", trust me it's funny.**

 **So, what did you all think of this? Should Renly claim the throne or will Westeros be better under the rule of House Cassius? Let me know in the reviews, what you thought and what you think will happen next.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **sddc0: That was the response I was hoping for.**

 **The French Dark Lord: First off, awesome username. Second, I've given "Guns of Dragonstone a read and it looks pretty damn good. I didn't read it before you brought it up so thanks for that.**

 **Tertius 711: Originally I was going to call it the Farosi Empire but your name sounds better, hope you don't mind me using it. So your prediction was pretty close.**

 **ATP: Exactly.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed it, please review, let me know what you think and see you next time.**


	9. Chapter 9

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Nine

The Field of Smoke

A stone wall behind a small ditch. That's all it took to change the course of history, well, a stone wall behind a small ditch with five thousand riflemen, some ten thousand normal infantry and three thousand heavy horsemen would be more accurate. The battle wouldn't really change the course of history either, but it would mark the point that historians would say changed Westeros.

As Robb Stark rode his horse through what was left of the battlefield he wasn't sure if he should vomit or smile. As soon as he got the word he called the banners and led the regular army, as he had started calling it, down to Moat Cailin. There the armies from Houses across the North gathered, Umber, Karstark, Mormont, Bolton and others assembled their forces, loual to fight in the name of Lord Eddard Stark. The core of his army was made up of riflemen, at first glance they looked like any other soldiers fighting for House Stark, dressed in the usual armour, but instead of sword and spear they carried one of the flintlock rifles bought just before his father rode south with the king. Unfortunately they forgot to order bayonets for them so they had to make them themselves. The Farosi instructors had nicknamed the creation the Mark 1 Northern Bayonet, unlike the Farosi bayonets which were long and thin three sided blades the Northern Bayonet was shaped like a glaive. The riflemen carried their cartirdges in leather satchels on their right side which also made it obvious that they were not just normal levies. Their four cannons proved themselves to be useful in the battle which unfolded that day.

When Robb had assembled his whole force at Moat Cailin he had recieved word that the Lannisters had struck into the Riverlands and Riverrun was already under siege. He had to act quickly, a disadvantage of having cannons was that they limited the speed of his army. He didn't want to divide his force either so he decided that there was only one thing he could do. He had to save his mothers family. His mother had joined them at Moat Cailin, leading to them securing a deal with House Frey, adding more men to his army, another thousand knights and three thousand foot. He also had a squire, Olyvar out of the deal and now he was betrothed to one of the Frey girls. He'd deal with that later.

At the Twins he sent a small force, about two thousand mounted troops, down towards the crossroads where they could attempt to harrass the main Lannister force commanded by Lord Tywin and perhaps save some lives. At the same time, Robb would lead the main force of his army over the Twins and then relieve Riverrun. They soon took back Raventree Hall where he learned that Jaime Lannister had heard of his movements and was marching on him.

'What do we know?' Robb asked his scouts and bannermen.

'The Kingslayer commands eighteen thousand men,' was one of his outriders responses. 'From what I saw milord, they numbered five thousand horse, the rest on foot.'

There they formed the plan, just south of Raventree Hall was a wide, low hill running from west to east. On the western side was a small wood and on the other a deep pond. Along the length of the southern slope of the hill was a low drystone wall and in front of that a ditch, both served to keep in the herd of goats which normally resided on that hill, the farmer and his family had fled to Raventree Hall when they were told a battle would be fought near their home.

The front line was assembled along the wall, the riflemen taking the centre and each flank held by several thousand normal infantry. Behind them was another line of infantry and archers. On the top of the hill, positioned in one group, were the four cannons, behind them on the reverse slope was the cavalry. The right he gave to the Great Jon, the left to Lord Karstark, the centre was commanded by Robb himself. He decided to grant the second to Lord Bolton and the cavalry to the Blackfish who had accompanied his mother from the Vale. Theon was with Robb, standing at his side just behind the riflemen as they watched the massive Lannister army form up. On Robb's other side stood Grey Wind, steady as ever but slightly growling.

'By the look of it the infantry are going to strike first,' said Theon. 'He's keeping the cavalry back.'

'The Kingslayer's reckless but not stupid. With that ditch in front of us his cavalry will never be able to charge us properly.'

'So all we need to worry about are thousands of infantry,' Theon said with a slight grin.

A horn blew and Robb looked towards the enemy as the first wave of Lannister infantry began their march forwards.

'Don't fire until ordered to,' Robb said as loudly as he could as he saw his men nervously shifting.

He looked behind him and drew his sword, holding it aloft and then the cannons began their bombardment. Like thunder they roared, dragons made metal, releasing vast clouds of smoke and which flew south, caught in the wind. A faint whistle could be heard before the cannonballs crashed into the ground infront of the Lannister troops and then bounced, skipping across the field towards them. Even from where he was Robb could tell how devestating the attack had been, great holes had been torn through the Lannister lines, the survivors stopped their advancing, stunned at what had just happened.

'You know I've always said we should use cannons,' Theon joked.

'That wasn't what you said when my father bought them.'

They stopped laughing when the Lannister troops marshaled themselves and continued their advance.

'Steady!' he heard officers shout to their men.

The cannons fired again and the result was the same. Another horn was blown, they Lannisters must be sending in another wave to support the first.

'They're about to enter firing range my lord,' said one of the officers.

The riflemen had been trained to fight in the Farosi style, grouped into comapnies of two hundred, each led by a captain, mostly minor nobles.

'Alright. FIRST RANK!' he bellowed, he'd practiced his commanders voice. 'TAKE AIM!'

Along the wall the riflemen aimed their weapons, just waiting for the order.

'Here we go,' said Theon as he drew his sword.

'FIRE!'

His view of the Lannister army was blockd by a wall of smoke which, taken by the wind, rushed towards the enemy. The captains did their job, taking over the role of ordering their men to fire. Five ranks deep, each rank fired their weapons and hastily began to reload, their practice over the past months made them a lethal force. Take the paper cratridge, bite out the bullet, pour most of the powder down the barrel, spit the bullet down the barrel, ram the bullet down the barrel, pour the remaining powder into the lock, pull back the hammer and then pull the trigger. Three shots a minute normally.

Again and again they fired, again and again clouds of smoke were rolled over the enemy. In one of the short gaps between the clouds of smoke he could just see the tattered remains of the remaining Lannister first wave, struggling throught he hailstorm of bullets and coughing on smoke. The next time he could see them they had merged with the second wave who now broke their formation and just charged, many of them dropping their useless shields as they went.

'Bayonets!' one of the captains ordered.

The order was echoaed along the line as the large glaive like blades were fitted onto the rifles.

'Our turn,' Theon said, almost happily.

'Remember to stay on the wall!' was Robbs command as he gripped his sword in both hands and made his way through the riflemen to the front, his men cheering him on as he pulled down the visor of his helmet.

The Lannister troops crashed into the ditch and then the wall, Robb saw some of his men fire their rifles one last time before swinging down with their bayonets. Robb thrust his sword into a mans neck and then pulled the weapon out. Next to him he saw Theon do the same while Grey Wind stayed close, tearing off the hand of a man who tried to spear Robb.

A Lannister soldier armed with a sword put his hand on the wall to climb up only for Robb to sice his sword down and cut it off, blood splattering everywhere. The screaming man vanishd into the ranks of enemy only to be replaced by another. All around him Robb could see the chaos of battle, a Lannister soldier and a rifleman grappled over the latters weapon, a man with an axe swung his weapon down and split in half a rifle, killing the man holding it with the same blow only for the axeman to be killed by a bullet to the eye.

At last the enemy broke and ran for it and Robb pushed up his helmets visor, grinning in joy at the men holding the line against the enemy attack. Cheers rose up from the rest of his men and a few jumped over the wall to chase the enemy down. Before Robb could shout to stop them the officers did it for him, getting them back onto the wall while other men quickly reloaded their rifles and gunned down the Lannister's as they retreated.

'Well done Robb,' said Theon as he wiped the blood off his sword, the two men looked towards the enemy who were regrouping while fresh troops were being brought up.

'We're not finsihed yet,' Robb said and stood on top of the wall, held up his sword and his men cheered him. He looked along the wall and saw that on the flanks the battle was still raging between Lannister infantry and his own.

'Sons of the North!' he declared to which his men cheered. 'Let them crash against us! They will fall! Reload and prepare to fire!'

And so they fought on and on until what was left of the Lannister infantry retreated back to their lines. Robb reached for his water skin and took a long drink, the battle was exhausting, all around him men were being passed water and more ammunition. That was when the thundering happened. He looked towards the enemy and saw the massed ranks of Lannister cavalry thundering towards them.

'Is he mad?' asked Theon.

'Desperate more like,' was Robb's response. 'Prepare to fire!'

The cannons opened up again and killed some of their knights but they were moving so fast that even by aiming ahead of them to bounce the cannonballs it was hard to hit them.

'Fire!' a captain shouted and his men began to unleash a storm of lead at the enemy.

Of course Robb couldn't see them properly, the smoke clouded everything but he could hear the scream of horses falling in agony. As his men fired Robb stood by the wall, his sword drawn and waiting for the attack. This was it. The wall was a good barrier, and so was the ditch, but he knew enough about history that the greatest threat cavalry posed was in the terror they brought to the humble infantryman. Suddenly a line of lances burst through the wall of smoke and the rifleman next to Robb was run through. Thousands of knights were swarming along the wall, cutting at the men behind it who fought back with incredible ferocity. Robb knew they were looking for weaknesses, the infantry attacks had weakened the wall, if the enemy found enough of them, he realised, the line could break. Another knight appeared and the rider aimed down at Robb with a double barrel shotgun. He pulled the trigger and Robb was sent flying, knocking down a few of his own men as he went. When he hit the ground it was hard to breath, for a moment he didn't know if he was dead or not, but then he took in a shaky breath and pushed himself up so he was standing. With some fear he looked down at his armour, the coat of plates he wore was shredded and the steel was almost rent apart but it wasn't broken. He wans't bleeding either, thank Gods for that. That was when he realised he lost his sword. Needing a weapon he saw a dead rifleman nearby and took the corpses weapon and cartridge bag, the rifle was loaded as well. Wanting revenge he looked for the knight who shot him but couldn't make him out in the storm of horses and men. Robb pushed his way forwards again and swung the rifle, the bayonet hacking into a man who forget to wear a gorget. He paid for that mistake with his life. Robb saw another knight who tried to push his horse over a weakness in the wall being shot by a quick rifleman.

'Theon!' Robb shouted and his old friend was soon at his side.

'Are you alright?' he asked.

'I'm fine. Send a messanger to Blackfish. It's time.'

'I'll do it.'

Theon was then off and Robb fought on, Greywind at his side. The wolf held a knight who had climbed off his horse by the arm allowing Robb to end the mans life easily. Looking back, Robb realised that he couldn't remember much of what happened in the battle after that but somehow he ended up using a bastard sword, losing the rifle along the way. Enough of the Lannister knights had dismounted and gotten over the wall that they were now fighting more or less evenly. That was when the new horn being blown got his attention and Robb looked to his right to see hundreds of Northern horsemen, riding around the pond as fast as they could, and leading them was the Blackfish, his sword held high as he quickly struck down several Lannister knights.

Seeing their flanks under attack the Westerland knights along the wall began to flee. Those on horseback doing a better job than their comrades who dismounted and were soon swamped by the infantry. Robb, seeing that now they could win, stood back on the wall and pointed his sword forwards.

'Advance!'

The men cheered and climbed over the wall, their bayonets level and some reloading as they marched. Robb looked to the right to see the men under the Great Jon's command charging to catch up with the enemy. The sight of it made everyone else, riflemen included, charge towards the enemy who were still being harrassed by Blackfish and his cavalry. For a moment Robb wondered what the enemy would be thinking, the sight of an unbroken line of Northerners and Rivermen racing towards them would be enough to break most armies. He pushed the thought away, he led the attack and soon they reached the enemy baggage train, Lannister knights and men at arms throwing down their arms to surrender while other men began to enjoy the plunder.

'Robb!' it was Blackfish. 'I've got my men following them. The Kingslayer escaped though.'

'It doesn't matter. We've shattered the Lannister army.'

'I know that but we need to move now. I want to collect as many mounted men as we can and move on Riverrun before the enemy can regroup.'

'Do it. If the enemy is well preared don't try to take the castle. We'll join you as soon as we can.'

'I understand. Well done Robb.'

He smiled and then rode off to gather men for his mission. Suddenly Robb was lifted up, he saw one of the men holding him up was Theon, the others were young other young nobles, and around him he saw hundreds of his men, levies and riflemen, sellswords and knights, all around him and cheering in victory. Robb held his sword aloft yet again and they cheered more. They were chanting but he didn't know what, slowly he came to hear it as his men cheered him with one voice.

 _STARK! STARK! STARK! STARK! STARK!_

That was three hours ago. Now he walked across the remains of the battlefield, the entire distance between the wall and the range of the rifles was covered in corpses, what little ground was left between the bodies was like a swamp, the ground drenched in blood. He walked past a line of six dead men, each of them with a massive hole torn in their torso, they must have been standing behind each other when a cannon ball struck. It had felt incredible at the time, being raised above his men as they celebrated their glory. Now he saw what his riflemen had brought, thousand of dead and dying. He turned around to walk back to camp and felt the pain in his chest. The shotgun had given him a broken rib and the king of all bruises but he wouldn't be harmed in the long term.

 **AN: So, sorry this is late but real life got in the way.**

 **The Northern Army, equipped with Farosi equipment, has defeated the army of the Kingslayer but the commander has gotten away. How will this affect the course of the war?**

 **In this I also made the army Jaime had larger due to the fact that because of the newly militarised North Lord Tywin would have been able to gather more men sooner. For the record, Tywin has about twenty five thousand under his command at this point in the story. I just wanted to show how much of a game changer firearms are on a battlefield with this chapter. As for Robb's armour protecting him from a shotgun, I watched videos of birdshot and buckshot being used against steel so in that context I think this makes sense.**

 **Join us next time for happenings in the capital as House Cassius makes its move.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **: Interesting theory. You'll see next time.**

 **Guest: Brandon and Wylla, is that for Jon's origins or something else? hanks for the review.**

 **Hitman: Thanks for the review, as for the political situation, you'll see next week.**

 **Tertius711: Ah a fellow historian. Yeah I know about that history, basically my love of Victorian history is what inspired this. As to what the Queen of Thorns would do, well, aside from their participation in the Greyjoy Rebellion, Farsos has't been very involved in Westeros until now so they are still a relatively unknown quantity.**

 **ATP: Farsos certainly could do it but it's a matter of currency. Farsos has a massive army and equiping each of those soldiers with half plate would massively increase costs.**

 **The armed forces: I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks for the review.**

 **Eriador12345: I suppose Ned might, you'll have to see though. As for the Farosi claim, again, you'll see.**


	10. Chapter 10

The Farosi

I own nothing by my OC's

 **AN: For the record, chronologically this chapter begins during the events of chapter eight and nine.**

 **Also, due to requests on information regarding Farsos I have started a Deviantart account which at the moment has a rough map of Farsos, forgive my poor art skills though. My Deviantart account is called MisterJJAndrews, just look up "Farsos map" on that website to find it. Farsos is also roughly the size of the mainland United States, minus Alaska.**

Chapter Ten

A Great Many Truths

Jon had built his life around one word, honesty. One of the reasons he resented politics, much to Radwen's frustration, was his love of honesty. Maybe politics did something to people to make them break their word or at least destroy their sense of honesty. On his way to the Tower of the Hand he thought deeply on what he would say to his father. What was right here, to support the rightful king who would be little more than a puppet of Lord Tywin or to usurp him and bring King Lukon to the Iron Throne? To follow the ancient laws of Westeros or perhaps change the world for the better? He didn't know, he was just a soldier.

Jon entered his fathers solar to see him there, his eyes dark at the knowledge that his oldest friend was dying.

'Father,' Jon said to him, delaying the inevitable as much as he could. 'I'm sorry about the king.'

'You have nothing to be sorry over Jon. No one could protect that man from himself. I'm glad you're here though, I was going to send someone to the embassy to ask Her Highness to prepare for battle. I've made a discovery which changes everything, this isn't just between us and the Lannisters.'

'It doesn't matter anymore,' was Jon's response. 'Father, the princess was lying to you. The Farosi Senate and King Lukon have been planning to take the Iron Throne.'

He couldn't bring himself to blame Radwen over this.

'But,' Jon saw his fathers face loose most of its colour, 'but they have no claim here. King Lukon has no right to the Iron Throne.'

'The Senate has declared that if a war starts here than they have the right to take over to prevent bloodshed.'

'That's the weakest excuse for war I've ever heard,' he responded and Jon wondered what his father would be thinking.

'Of course it's an excuse but it's one the Farosi people would like. To be the protectors of the world is something that they want to be, anything to recover from being defeated by Gwaithol.'

'They need to be stopped,' his father said quickly and Jon felt himself being looked at with what he thought was regret. 'I know you're an officer of their army but I must ask you something. Is there a back way into the Embassy? We already have the Gold Cloaks, if we attack now with numbers we can stop this before it starts, hold the princess hostage to stop their invasion.'

'That won't work. Littlefinger has lied to you, he supports the Lannisters and had bribed the Gold Cloaks to back them.'

'Damn,' he said and walked to the window, looking out across the city, he could see the embassy from that window. 'I swear I'll take that mans head for this. Alright, we need a new plan,' he then looked back at Jon and sighed. 'You don't know how complex everything is but listen to me.'

And so Jon sat there, listening to his father as he explained everything to him, the incest, the truth, his offer to the Queen, all of it, by the end Jon at last realised how dire the situation was.

'Where is King Renly?' Jon asked him.

'He's already left the city, going to Highgarden to secure an alliance with the Reach. He wanted me to secure the capital for him but that's impossible now.'

'What will you do?'

'Flee the city,' was his answer. 'We'll leave tonight, I'll have your sisters travel by ship, I already chartered a ship to carry them to White Harbour. I and the rest of my household guard we'll,' he stopped to think for a moment, 'we'll catch up with Renly, tell him what's happened and we can form a new plan. The Eighth Corps, they could attack the Reach at any moment. We need to send word to Lord Redwyne and warn him.'

'Father,' Jon said loudly, cutting of the older mans train of thought. 'I haven't told you everything. The princess sent me here to try to persuade you to help her.'

'Help her? She wants me to commit treason against the rightful king?'

'It's just, it might not be wrong to help them. Think about it,' he said that quickly to stop his father from voicing his opinion on that, 'with King Lukon on the Iron Throne the realms debts can be repaid in just weeks, their technology can make life better for the people.'

'You're a young man Jon,' his father told him, 'of course you believe in what Farsos can do but they have no right to rule here. We have to support King Renly.'

'She wants me to marry her,' Jon finally told him and, now he truly was surprised at his fathers expression.

While all the colour from his face was drained he seemed to visibly stiffen at that.

'If you marry her,' he said and then he slumped in his chair, head falling into his hands. 'Gods, Jon why now of all times?'

'Father, if you say no than I won't and I'll follow you. I am loyal to my family above all.'

'Jon, it's not that. If you marry Princess Radwen than her families claim will be even stronger.'

'Why?'

Now Jon was confused, he was only a bastard after all.

'Because, Jon, I was always going to tell you this one day but I never wanted it to be now, not like this. It's about your mother.'

A hope that he had kept buried inside of him began to burn bright again, for a long time he had kept it away but it remained an ember, now it was glowing brighter with those words.

'Who was she?' he asked him, at last, he would know. Maybe he could find her.

'I've lied Jon. For so many years I've been lying to everyone, I lied to my king, my wife and my friends. It happened during the rebellion, well, it actualy began the rebellion. Everyone knows the story, Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna and the mad king killed my father and brother.'

'Of course I know the story.'

'What no one knows is the truth. Lyanna was not kidnapped, she eloped with Rhaegar, she, I suppose she loved him. When I found her at the Tower of Joy, she-'

'Father,' Jon said, suddenly his desire to learn the truth had grown cold, not wanting to know any more.

'I am not your father. You are Lyanna and Rhaegar's son. Your name, the name Lyanna gave you, one of her final acts while she still drew breath was naming you Jaehaerys Targaryen.'

Jon couldn't say anything, he just couldn't think as everything he knew to be true in his life crumbled away with his fathers, no, his uncles words. The uniform he wore stood for nothing more than conquest, the blood in his veins was that of the most hated family in Westeros and he couldn't turn to anyone. Then he realised fully what this meant.

'If I'm Rhaegar's son,' he said, look to Lord Stark whose eyes seemed to almost be teary, 'what does that make me?'

'The rightful king, King Jaehaerys, Third of his name.'

'Gods.'

'I know Jon. I'm sorry I lied to you but I had to. If Robert had found out who you are he'd have killed you as a babe. I promised my sister as she died that I would protect you.'

'If I marry Radwen,' he said and shook his head, 'the Farosi would have a stronger claim to the throne.'

'It wouldn't just be strong, it would be the strongest of them all.'

'How do they know? They must have found out some how.'

'I don't think so. The Farosi have only been involved with Westeros since the last rebellion.'

'Radwen did say that her father wanted her to marry a Westerosi of noble blood.'

'In that case it must be a coincidence,' he was speaking formally, Ned Stark didn't show sadness, he did his duty. 'Jon, I have no right to do this but I must ask you to do something.'

'Uncle,' he said, his voice almost snapping as he did it, 'tell me where to ride and I will do as you ask.'

'You won't ride anywhere Jon. The princess trusts you, you are an officer in their army, I need you here. Find the allies of Renly and help us, tell us what the Farosi know and maybe we can win this war.'

'You want me to be a spy?'

'Yes. Go to the princess and tell her that I support her, it could give us enough time to get the girls out.'

'I'll do it,' he said and looked down at the table, he would now have to lie to Radwen. Still, he had to do as his uncle commanded, they were kin, it was his duty. 'Father,' he suddenly realised, 'you need to take Sam.'

'The Tarly boy?'

'Yes. If the Reach fights the Farosi they could use Sam as leverage to stop his father from fighting. To win you'll need every man you can muster, you can't lose House Tarly.'

'You're right.'

So they went over the plan, Jon keeping his mind away from his parentage, and they decided that Lord Stark and his men would meet with Sam by the Kings Gate and then they would ride after Renly. Jon would continue his duties in the embassy and hopefully all of House Stark could escape in the night.

'I hope this works,' Jon said to him.

'So do I.'

'Why not leave by the River Gate?'

'If anyone works out what we're doing our enemies might try to stop us. They'll know I'm with the larger group so they won't try to get the girls.'

'It's risky.'

'I know Jon but we have no choice.'

'Well, in that case that's nothing more to do. Good luck uncle.'

Jon felt guilt there over the look on Lord Stark's face at the change in title.

'Good luck to you Jon. Whatever you do, find a way to delay the wedding to the princess until we can win the war and the Farosi are gone from Westeros.'

'I'll try my best. Good luck.'

They didn't embrace, they didn't show sorrow. instead they shook hands and Jon left the Tower of the Hand. As he returned to the Embassy some time later, Lord Stark had agreed that he should stay in the Tower of the Hand to make it look like he had been persuading him to join the Farosi, Jon reflected on how wrong everything had gone. He was about to lie to Radwen, the woman who he might just end up marrying at this rate, and he had kept a secret from his father, he hadn't told him the basis for the Cassius claim to the throne, at least he kept that promise to tell no one. When he arrived back he went to speak with Sam, after telling the Princess the lie, he hated every second of that. When Sam was told the plan he was nervous, not sure what to do until Jon agreed to help him pack quietly. Sam would take only the essentials, his uniform, his revolver, sword, ammunition, food and a dark green cloak with a Tarly sigil clasp. With any luck he could leave the Embassy by claiming he was going to a nearby tavern in the Farosi District and then sneak away. Jon didn't tell him the truth about his own parentage though, that belonged only to him and Lord Stark.

'Good luck Sam,' he said to his friend and they shook hands for the last time as the sun began to set that evening.

'You too Jon. Take care of yourself.'

'I'll try but I can't promise that.'

'I don't know what I'll be able to do now.'

'You can advise them, you know how the Farosi army fights, you know how to beat it.'

'Alright, that's what I'll do.'

Unfortunately Jon couldn't see off his friend, instead of going to the officers mess Radwen invited him to have supper with her, and he couldn't turn down a request from her, especially now.

They are supper quietly together, there wasn't much left to talk about, they were on the brink of the greatest event in the history of Westeros since the coming of Aegon. After supper they sat in her living room for a while until Radwen finally broke the silence.

'Are you nervous?'

'Of course. Are you?'

'Certainly,' was her response. 'If tommorow completely bolocks up for us it might be the end of me, my father will drag Miccal out of the navy and kick me out of the succession completely.'

'If we can control the capital,' Jon reminded her, 'your father will make sure you become queen. If something goes wrong,' he said, thinking of his words carefully, 'and you still manage it he'll want to make you queen as soon as he hears.'

'Glad to see you're optimistic. You were wrong about something earlier.'

'And what was that?'

'We will have armour. We are, by that I mean the Senate, are concerned about how dangerous the Westerosi are in hand to hand combat so they cooked up something. Tomorrow our boys will be wearing a new addition to the uniform, a leaather jerkin.'

'Leather?' he asked.

'I know it's not as good as plate but it's something. Apparently the tests done by the Senatorial Office of Supply found them able to stop most bayonet thrusts but just in case the officers have a thin layer of chain mail under the leather, it should keep you quite safe.'

'Glad to hear it. I'd feel better if I knew my men were as protected as I am though.'

'You are going to be a king you know. I wouldn't mind it if neither of us had to go anywhere near the fighting until it's all over.'

'I'm a soldier, Radwen. It's my job.'

'If you weren't a soldier what would you be? I mean, if your father had never asked you to go and train in Farsos, what would you have done?'

'The Nights Watch,' he answered. 'It's the only place I would have been accepted.'

'Thank the True Queen you weren't sent there. I can't imagine what would have happened to me.'

'You would have been proposing to Sam.'

Radwen chuckled at that and Jon thought about how pleasant her laugh was.

'I might have done. Now that I think about, no one's actually proposed yet.'

'I didn't think we'd have to, I mean, you already had the contract ready.'

'True, but I do like traditions.'

'Alright then,' Jon said and stood up, taking Radwen by the hand and pulling her to her feet.

Jon then knelt before Radwen and cleared his throat.

'Your Highness, will be my wife?'

'I will,' she responded and Jon stood up, not helping the smile on his face.

'So it's all official then?'

'Now it is.'

Someone knocked at the door and Radwen sighed in slight annoyance as Jon quickly stood up, taking a few steps away from Radwen.

'Come in,' Radwen said and Colonel Donnah stepped in, still wearing his leather battle coat.

'Your Highness,' he said and bowed quickly, his eyes dispaying concern, 'there has been an unusual activity in the Red Keep.'

'Has the king died yet?' asked Radwen, wondering if he had finally died.

'No, our man in the Red Keep says that he's still breathing. However,' he said and spared a glance at Jon, 'a large number of people have been seen leaving the Tower of the Hand, it looks like most or all of Lord Stark's household.'

'What's he doing?' asked Radwen and looked at Jon. 'Well, do you have any idea?'

'No I don't,' he told her, hoping that his lies wouldn't be seen by her.

'Our man saw two groups leaving the Red Keep,' Donnah went on. 'The larger group is heading towards one end of the city, the smaller is aproaching the docks.'

'The docks?'

'Yes. If you remember, Lord Stark has a ship loyal to him there.'

 _Fuck,_ Jon thought to himself.

'If I was in Lord Stark's shoes I'd use the larger group as a distratction while I took my family to the ship to escape.'

'I agree,' Donnah said to her.

 _Fuck,_ Jon internally shouted again.

'I have a platoon of my men already heading towards the docks. They've been ordered to aprehend Lord Stark.'

'Good job. Come back when you have news.'

'Yes You Highness.'

When he left the room Radwen turned to look at Jon, a slight sharp edge in her expression.

'Well?'

'He told me he was with you.'

'Looks like Lord Stark is a better liar than I thought.'

'It looks that way.'

'I'm sorry Jon. We'll work out what's happening.'

So they ended up waiting for a while, about half an hour later though the relative silence was broken by the most agonised howl Jon had ever heard.

'That sounds like Ghost,' Jon said, now worried.

'He's usually as silent as, well, as a ghost.'

It went on for twenty agonising seconds until Ghost finally fell silent again. After another half an hour Colonel Donnah returned.

'What happened?' Radwen asked him.

'We were wrong. Only Lord Stark's daughters were there with some retainers.'

'What happened?' Jon asked him. He had to know.

'There was a fight. Lord Stark's men fired on mine so they fired back, it looks like some dock workers were killed in the cross fire.'

'Damnit,' Radwen cursed.

'What about my sisters?'

'We're not sure but Lady Sansa and her wolf managed to get onto the ship, Arya's wolf was killed and Lady Arya went missing by the time the ship cast off.'

'Missing?' Radwen asked him. 'Then find her.'

'We have no idea where she is.'

'I don't care. For goodness sake don't you know how dangerous this city is? I want her found before the poor girl's hurt.'

'Do as she says,' Jon told him angrily.

'We'll try.'

'And I want your men to remain silent about this.'

'Most of them were killed. According to them a Braavosi swordsmen was with Arya, to let her escape he charged in and killed many of my men before they could bring him down.'

'One man did that?'

'I don't believe it personally. Still, I'll send more men out to find the girl.'

'Make sure you do. Get out.'

As soon as the door was closed behind Donnah, Radwen fell into an arm chair and growled.

'Why me?'

'I'm more worried about Arya.'

'So am I. The girl's all on her own in this damned city.'

'So my father managed to get away.'

'He's a clever man. So, it's war against the North as well,' Jon and Radwen looked at each other and before he could speak Radwen cut in. 'When the fighting comes I won't make you fight your brother, we'll position you at another part of the battle.'

'Thank you.'

'By now word of the gunfight down at the docks would have reached the Red Keep. Go and get some rest, it's an important day tommorow.'

'We're still siezing power?'

'Yes.'

'And my fathers role in the plan?'

'We'll just have to shift some men around. Good night Jon.'

They kissed once more and then Jon went to the barracks, waiting for the chaos the next morning as, at the same time, King Robert finally, at last, died.

...

Radwen was certainly nervous as she was being properly dressed at around midday the next day. For most of the morning she had worn a simple blue dress which she usually wore when doing her day to day work, that was until they recieved word that the king had died and within the hour Ser Merryn Trant stormed into her rooms and demanded that she hand over Jon. Fortunately Captain Howmer was there at once with five of his best men, dressed in their armour and armed with their powerful rifles.

'Why?' she asked him from her chair as she pretended to look over some papers.

'He's the bastard of the traitor Ned Stark, we need him as a hostage.'

'Lord Stark a traitor? How ridiculous.'

'Don't play games with me. The King has demanded that you hand over the bastard and he wants you to come to the Red Keep at once.'

'Why?' she asked again as she pretended to look at a different paper.

'The King does not need to give reasons to a foreign girl. He demands that you appear in the Red Keep before him.'

'He demands?' she asked and put down the papers, internally she was shaking but she kept herself still. She stood up and, though she had to look up at him, she thought that her appearence was now intimidating. 'Go back to your king, tell him that I will go and speak with him this afternoon, tell him that I will discuss the current situation with him. Most of all though, remind the _boy,_ that he may ask, he may humbly request, but he has no right to demand anything of the Princess of Farsos. Am I clear, or will my men have to carry you back to the Red Keep?' she added extra venom to the last word as Howmer and his men slightly moved their rifles towards the knights who, with a scowl on his face, turned to leave.

She almost fell over after doing that, she quickly summoned Donnah and told him that it was time and she began to get changed. With the aid of her maids she was changed into her ceremonial uniform which she was expected to use on important occasions, such as this one. It was made in the older style which had been fased out since the Fifteen Years War except for ceremonial use. It was feminine as well, made just for her. There was a dark blue skirt which reached her ankles and a jacket over a white blouse and bright yellow waistcoat. The jacket was braided and only the top three buttons were fastened to show off the waistcoat. Pinned on her right side was a large badge displaying the unicorn and griffon of Farsos. Her boots were the same as those worn by the infantry, both so well polished that they could be used as mirrors.

'You look lovely Your Highness,' Arrila, one of her maids, said to her.

'I'd prefer powerful,' Radwen said and touched the spot in her jackets inside pocket where her small revolver was resting.

'Powerful and lovely then,' Menra, her other maid, added as she aproached Radwen with a mahoganny box.

Radwen opened it and saw inside her favourite tiara, the one which was made of silver in the pattern of gently rolling waves, each one studded with tiny diamonds and on top of each wave was a large saphire. She was a princess, it was only right that she should wear this for the duty she would have today. It was gently placed on her head and fitted in with her hair. At last she looked at her image in the mirror and was impressed, she looked the part for what she was to do that day. The absense of Lord Stark changed things a little but it wouldn't be too bad, the troops would be spread a bit thinly but it should go alright.

Colonel Donnah and Brigadier Curn arrived soon after she was dressed properly.

'Is everyone ready?'

'The boys underground are ready to go,' Curn told her.

'Good. Well, this is it. Good luck gentlemen, the True Queen is with us.'

She walked into the garden outside the embassy where the garrison, only the ones everyone knew about, stood in parade formation, all of them fully armed and wearing their new leather jerkins. They were dyed the same blue as their uniforms so they didn't look too different, although some of the men were visibly sweating under the new part of the uniform. When she walked past Jon's Troop she slowed down as she past Jon who stood with his Sergeant and his wolf. She smiled at him and then went on, wishing she could say more. Jon would be a good king. She'd handle the politics, he would lead the army. She judged the faces of the men, they had been told what was going to happen soon and their faces expressed a mixture of discipline and nervous excitement. At last she reached her carriage, guarded by all the members of her Royal Guard, clad in black plate over their urple uniforms, and as fully armed as the rest of the men. She stepped into the carriage and the driver commanded the horses forwards, half the men in front of them, the other half either beside it or behind it.

The journey towards the Red Keep was slow, it was the early afternoon and the city was busy, the roads were packed so it took over an hour to make it to the castle which, as she looked out of the window, she could tell was on edge. Lannister troops and Gold Cloaks were everywhere, her guards were impossibly outnumbered, even with their better weapons. At last they arrived at the gates through which they would have to enter, her carriage stopped and she stepped out to see the gates open for her. The guards even allowed her men to enter with her, each of them fixed their bayonets before they did so as well. At a brisk pace Radwen marched with her guards through the Red Keep, the corridors were all empty, the servants and nobles who were usually seen there were instead keeping away, they all knew what happened when a king died.

Soon they entered the throne room, the sides of the room were lined with hundreds of Lannister soldiers and gold cloaks, about one on ten with a shotgun, the rest with spears and swords. Standing around that monstrosity of a throne stood the Kingsguard who remained in the city, all in full armour, the Hound was close by as well, that ugly helmet on his head, and the Small Council was in a huddle behind him. Queen Cersie, or technically Queen Mother now, was at the foot of the throne, her other children behind her and, sure enough, sitting on the thing itself was Joffrey, a crown already on his head. _Is Roberts corpse even cold?_ Radwen thought to herself.

She led her men a short way into the throne room, just so far that they could talk to each other, she glanced about the place, at the enemy soldiers who almost surrounded them, at their leaders around the throne, at the gallery above the sides of the room where she could see no one. She was ready as her guards formed into two ranks behind her.

'You asked to see me?' Radwen spoke loud and clear.

'You were summoned here,' Cersie told her, raising her voice.

'Of you insist, that will be the story. Might I ask why you asked for me?'

'To answer for the crimes committed by your men,' Joffrey told her, repeating words Radwen knew his mother had told him.

'If this is about the incident between Lieutenant Snow and the Kingslayer, I'm afraid that's already been settled.'

'Not that,' Cersie spoke for her son. 'Last night a group of Farosi Military Policemen attacked Lady Sansa Stark and her entourage. She is betrothed to the king and attempting to harm her is an attack on Westeros.'

'Oh that incident. My advisors heard that the Stark girls were in danger so I sent some men to protect them, there was a misunderstanding and a firefight broke out. Nothing more. As for the people killed in the crossfire, their families will be compensated.'

'Unnaceptable,' said Cersie. 'As recompense you will remove your soldiers from the Arbor and reduce your Embassy Guard to a hundred men.'

'No,' she said flatly.

'And,' Joffrey spoke up, 'and you will hand over Ned Stark's bastard. We might find use in him as a hostage.'

'You or your people will not lay a finger on Jon Snow,' she told him firmly.

'You have no right to deny the will of the king,' Littlefinger reminded her.

'He is not my king, nor will he ever be,' she looked back at Joffrey. 'Your Grace, the real reason I came here was not to discuss anything that has happened recently, it's on another matter entirely.'

'I don't care about your problems,' Joffrey saif smugly.

'You will care about this.'

'Let her speak,' Cersie proclaimed. 'After that we will get onto the matter of her soldiers leaving this city.'

'Thank you. I wish to state my fathers claim to the Iron Throne.'

The silence which penetrated the room was stronger than cast iron, everyone looking at her with confusion. Joffrey was turning purple and Cersie, like all the Small Council, did not understand her. The Kingsguard though reached for their swords but didn't draw yet.

'What did you say?' Littlefinger asked her, clearly confused.

'My fathers claim to the throne,' she repeated humbly. 'It's all legal.'

'You have no right to this throne!' Joffrey shouted, looking like a mad dog, a very inbred dog as well.

'Yes I do.'

'How long did it take your father to make it up?' Cersie coldly asked her.

'We've been waiting for this for thousands of years.'

'Dont be ridiculous.'

'I am serious. Don't you know the history of your own family Your Grace?'

'What has that to do with anything?'

'Everything actually. Did you really think we were all dead and gone, that we would never come back? Your ancestor wasn't as _clever_ as he thought, just one escaped his massacre and fled Westeros, Cassius Hill.'

The reaction to that was slightly satisfying for Radwen, the Queen realised first and her eyes became as wide as saucers, the Small Council, particularly the Spider and Littlefinger, looked at each other stunned, the enemy soldiers around them, mostly the Lannister troops, lowered their weapons and raised their shields or aimed their shotguns.

'At arms!' Ser Barristan shouted and his men, as well as the Hound, all drew their swords.

'Who are you?' Cersie, her voice full of fear, asked her.

'A daughter of House Cassius, descended from the bastard line of House Casterly, Lords of Casterly Rock. As recompense for the actions of your ancestor, Lan the Clever, the Senate has voted that House Lannister shall be stripped of all their titles and lands which shall be claimed back by House Cassius. Through that we claim the throne. Surrender now and you will be fine, refuse, and you will die.'

'Get them!' Joffrey screached. 'Kill them!'

Radwen knew it was time and she looked up for salvation.

* * *

 **AN: Congratulations everyone who worked it out in the reviews! The truth is revealed, House Cassius are the bastard descendents of House Casterly, back for revenge. So, what will happen next? What's the plan? Will House Cassius secure the city? Find out next time!**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Hitman: While Jaime was often arrogant he was clever. No doubt his experience should be useful for the war to come.**

 **ATP: Indeed, massed volley fire, even with muskets, at close range could be lethal. Also, when infantry can stand their ground against cavalry they can be beaten, just look at the squares at Waterloo.**

 **Tertius711: I'm glad to see you're interested in knowing more about Farsos and I have a plan for how to show more info. Thanks for your review, hope you liked this one.**

 **Serrae: I'm glad you like the story. Farosi technology has reached the level of the steam engine, the breach loading rifle and gas lighting but they do not have electricity or telegrams. Thanks for the review, I hope this answers your question.**

 **See you all next time. Don't forget to review, have a great day.**


	11. Chapter 11

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

 **AN: Well, I wasn't expecting Ned's actions in the last chapter to have caused so much frustration from so many. Keep in mind he didn't have much time to make his decision and he was just trying to make the best out of a fairly bad situation. Still, I hope this clears things up a bit.**

Chapter Eleven

The Ascension

 _This is a giant mess,_ Ned thought to himself as he and others, the large group of his own household guards and staff, Baratheon's retainers, as well as one Tarly still wearing his Farosi uniform, rode along the road at a brisk pace. It wasn't long until they caught up with King Renly and of course he was confused as to what he was doing.

When he had been told of the Farosi's plan he was outraged, almost looking like Robert at his worst, but he calmed down soon and listened to Ned, explaining what he had done, persuading Jon to stay and act as a spy if he could. Renly was glad to hear that when he realised something.

'They have nearluy forteen thousand men at the Arbor! I told Robert and Arryn not to let them in but they did it anyway and now look.'

He sent a rider to a nearby holdfast with a rookery to send word to Lord Redwyne but Ned doubted it would do any good. He expected Princess Radwen had already sent word to the troops there to sieze the island, from there they could strike at the Reach and begin their invasion of the mainland. As they went on he thought about all of this, it was ridiculous. The other wars were simple by comparrison, two sides, he chose one and fought for it. Now there were the forces of Renly, the Lannisters who would almost certainly support Joffrey and the Farosi who were an entire problem themselves. Not long ago it looked like they would destroy Lord Tywin's armies and win the war quickly but now they had the Farosi to deal with.

 _Am I doing the right thing?_ he wondered. Yes, he was sure of it, no, not sure of it, but he thought it was the best he could do. While he had a reputation as being an unbendable moralising man he was Warden of the North, of course he knew politics. He was raised to be a soldier and one thing was obvious. They couldn't win this war, not in the tradition sense anyway.

He didn't have much time to plan this but he came up with one and he hoped it would work. He would advise Renly on his actions against the Farosi to win as many victories as possible on the battlefield. He had spent enough time looking at how Farsos worked to know that they had one weakness, the Senate. Senators needed to win elections to keep their seats, wars meant taxes, meant expenses and it meant a lot of unhappy people voting for Senators. If he could make the war as costly as possible for the Farosi then, while they might not win, they could negotiate a peace that would be favourable. Of course, there was another question. Why not just support the Farosi? Proclaim to the world Jon's heritage and let the Farosi have the Iron Throne. No. The Dragons lost their rights to the throne after the rebellion, any oaths he had to that house burned with his father. Most people would think the same, another Targaryen on the throne would have the support of few unless they had no choice. More than that, yes, the Farosi would bring a lot to Westeros but what would they destroy? Everything that had happened in their land happened slowly, over the course of thousands of years. They wanted to bring thousands of years of advancement to Westeros in just a few, it could destroy Westeros. Yes, he wanted to see their advancements but bringing them in slowly, carefully, giving people time to adjust, it would make long term peace rather than short lived triumphs. One of his bannermen bought a Farosi threshing machine a few years before, when the harvest came in the small folk who would usually do the threshing had no work and they rioted. Overnight this device changed things and no one thought it through.

Lastly, of course, he had a backup plan. If something happened to Renly everything would go even worse, the rightful heir would be Shireen but, sadly, no one would fight and kill to put a girl whose face had been destroyed by Greyscale on the throne. There would be no other choice, then, maybe, for the good of the realm, he could reveal the truth about Jon and support him, bringing about peace.

It was not a perfect solution but he was doing the best he could. He looked to Renly, he could be a far better king than Robert but who would be better on the throne, Jon or Renly? He feared for Jon, as a normal soldier he was one among many, as a prince or a king he would have enemies everywhere. That's the main reason he sent him to Farsos, he could be safe from his families enemies and have a life, the only alternative would have probably been the Wall. He wouldn't break his promise to Lyanna, her son would live no matter what.

...

Jon was crouching low behind the stone ballustrade, his men around him doing the same, not too far away Captain Lowhill was doing the same, the whole company doing the same as they waited for the order. When Jon had first looked over the ballustrade, after entering the gallery, he saw a company of the Military Police, all wearing their black leather battle coats and carrying their revolver rifles, a few putting away the strangling wires they had used to kill the guards outside the door to the gallery. Jon looked at Donley, the wire he had used, made from a thin length of metal similar to what grocers used to slice cheese, was wrapped around his belt. They just had to wait for the order and they would fire. They would fire down into the throne room below them.

The plan was simple, Radwen would be the distraction, she and her small force of just a hundred Royal Guardsmen, would slowly move through the city, all the attention would be on them and the outer defences. As they did that the key part of the plan would take place. Most of the embassy garrison and the soldiers underground would then advance through the tunnels beneath the city and attack the Gold Cloaks Barracks, secure the gates and other important sites.

According to Colonel Donnah's agents all of the staff in the Red Keep had been ordered to stay in their quarters so if a fight broke out in the castle no one would have to worry about screaming servants. This meant that the entire regiment of infantry who would be infiltrating the Red Keep wouldn't be found by accident, with all the attention on the throne room and the walls no one would see them coming. The company of the Light Horse commanded by Captain Lowhill and a company of Military Policemen would infiltrate the Red Keep first though.

When they had left the embassy and marched into the underground stores and barracks they went past hundreds of regular infantry who had been in these tunnels for weeks, all of them looking surly and eager for the fight to start, their bayonets fixed and rifles loaded. Their officers were doing a good job at keeping them in line but they were impatient. Soon they made their way to the tunnels leading to the Red Keep which a small number of the Military Police had cleared of potential spies and soon they were in the lower levels of the castle.

After that they split up into their platoons or troops, quickly making their own paths through the castle. Jon's men were only nearly found once when a young man, by his clothes he was a noble, and a servant girl, were making love in an alcove, taking advantage of the empty corridors. Fortunately they weren't at it for long and soon hurried off, only slowing the troop down for a few minutes.

'That the best he could do?' Sergeant Osoni chuckled to Jon afterwards.

Jon couldn't help a slight laugh at that but his mind was focused on the mission. They met up with Lowhill and the rest of the company near the doors to the gallery of the throne room and a few volunteers went ahead to silently kill the few guards there, after that everyone entered the gallery, crouching low behind the ballustrade just as Radwen and her guards entered.

There they waited, listening as the two sides talked, Jon growing nervous at the thought of Radwen being in the line of fire. She could shoot a revolver but it was something else to look a man in the eyes and kill him, he wasn't sure if Radwen was able to do that. He wasn't sure if he wanted Radwen to have to do that.

''Let her speak,' Jon heard Queen Cersie. 'After that we will get onto the matter of her soldiers leaving this city.'

Jon heard Corporal Donley hiss with laughter at that.

Thank you. I wish to state my fathers claim to the Iron Throne,' Radwen said in a fairly normal voice as if it had been any normal conversation.

'What did you say?' somone, Littlefinger he guessed, asked her, clearly confused.

'My fathers claim to the throne. It's all legal.'

'You have no right to this throne!'

Yes I do.'

'How long did it take your father to make it up?' Cersie asked he with an icy tone.

'We've been waiting for this for thousands of years.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

Jon peered over very quickly and made note that a number of the enemy had shotguns, not too dangerous but if they got a good shot at Radwen it would be the end of her.

'Alright lads,' he said quickly, 'focus fire on the shotgunners.'

'I am serious,' he heard Radwen tell all of those gathered. 'Don't you know the history of your own family Your Grace?'

'What has that to do with anything?'

'Everything actually. Did you really think we were all dead and gone, that we would never come back? Your ancestor wasn't as _clever_ as he thought, just one escaped his massacre and fled Westeros, Cassius Hill.'

He could hear the men below drawing swords.

'At arms' Ser Barristan shouted and Jon felt regreat at knowing that it was likely that soon Ser Barristan the Bold, the greatest of the Kings Guard, would be dead soon. That man fought alongside his father in battle.

'Who are you?' the Queen asked Radwen, it was clear how terrified the woman was.

'A daughter of House Cassius, descended from the bastard line of House Casterly, Lords of Casterly Rock. As recompense for the actions of your ancestor, Lan the Clever, the Senate has voted that House Lannister shall be stripped of all their titles and lands which shall be claimed back by House Cassius. Through that we claim the throne. Surrender now and you will be fine, refuse, and you will die.'

'Now that's a statement and a half,' Osoni said to Jon.

'I know.'

'Kill them!' the inbred shit declared. 'Kill them!'

'Now men!' he heard Radwen shout and Jon stood up at once, revolver drawn and his eyes met Radwen's as she was pulled behind the line of her Royal Guard who took aim at the enemy.

The Lannister troops and Gold Cloaks were stunned at th reveal.

'FIRE AT WILL!' Lowhill ordered and what followed was short and bloody.

Jon fired carefully, always aiming down into the mass of enemy soldiers who tried to fight back but, as most were armed only with hand to hand weapons, they futily hid behind their shields only to be cut down anyway. With a shot to the leg someone knocked down Ser Barristan, the Hound hell to his hands and knees with three bullets buried in his chest. The rest of the Kings Guard were cut down by volley fire from the Royal Guard. Some of the Military Police threw hand bombs, black cast iron spheres filled with black powder, down into the enemy, the explosions tearing them to pieces. Jon reloaded his pistol and saw Radwen behind her guards, holding her pistol but her hand shaking slightly at what she was seeing.

Jon fired again and struck down the last of the shotgunners when he noticed Baelish and Varys racing for the door to the Small Council Chamber behind the throne. However, at the last second the door was thrown open and from it emerged twenty Military Policemen led by Colonel Donnah, a revolver in each hand. With one pistol he slammed the handle into Baelish's forehead, the man hit the ground, knocked out cold. With the other revolver he took aim at the Spider and fired three times, two striking him in the chest and a third in the head, blowing off half of the bald mans scalp. Soon after that Jon saw the last surviving enemy soldiers throwing down their weapons and surrendering, of course as soon as that was seen, Colonel Donnah ordered the Farosi to cease fire.

'Well done gentlemen,' Radwen said to the soldiers who began to round up the prisoners. 'Take care of the wounded, lock up the prisoners.'

'Let's get down there lads,' Lowhill ordered his men and soon after Jon was walking through the killing field.

He looked at the dead, he thought he saw Maester Pycelle amongst them, Littlefinger was being taken away with the other wounded, such as Ser Barristan and the Hound. Queen Cersie was against a wall, two Military Policemen hodling her at gunpoint, her two youngest children behind her. Joffrey on the other hand had ten of the Royal Guard aiming their rifles at him and was refusing to get off the Iron Throne, behaving like a child who was without his favourite toy.

'No!' he shouted.

'Just get off the damn throne!' Radwen told him.

'No!' this time he stamped his foot as he said it.

'Joffrey just do as she says!' Cersei pleaded with her son.

'I'm finished with this,' said Radwen and she looked at Jon. 'Take him off the throne.'

'Yes Your Highness,' Jon said, remembering that they were both foing their jobs, no time for names.

Jon walked up the steps to the Iron Throne, his pistol still in hand and grabbed Joffrey by the wrist and dragged him down from the throne and almost throwing him to a Military Policeman who, in just two seconds, locked him up in hand cuffs. When Jon saw this he nodded at the policeman who just dragged the would be king away.

'Lock them up in Queen Cersie's chambers. I want a guard on them at all times,' Radwen ordered.

'I'll handle it,' Donnah told her and led the group away.

While this was going on, Jon looked up at the seat of the throne and realised that if things had been different it could have been his. He sighed and returned to stand with Radwen who was now smiling, ignoring the bodies.

'Well done,' she said quietly.

'Thank you.'

'Your Highness,' Captain Lowhill said to her, 'your orders?'

'Secure the castle. We won't have long until everyone outside knwos what's happened. My Royal Guard will remain here. Captain, I must ask you to back into the fight.'

'We will fight with honour Your Highness. Just point at the enemy and we'll blow them away.'

'Good man.'

Jon and the rest of the Light Horsemen, as well as the Military Police, lined up and prepared to march out. Radwen watching them before she turned around and began to walk up onto the Iron Throne. When she came to the top of it she sat down and rested her arms only to pull her hand up to her face where she had cut it on a blade.

'For the Crown,' she declared, 'for the Senate and the People of Farsos!'

'Crown, Senate, People!' Jon and every other soldier echoed before marching out.

...

Along the walls of the Red Keep and in the courtyards a brutal battle was taking place. Jon dodged a spear thrust from a Gold Cloak and then sliced the mans neck open with his saber. With that his men finished clearing that courtyard so he led the in a charge up through a tower and onto a wall where they gunned down some of the last few defenders. With the Red Keep almost secure Jon leaned against the wall and looked out over the city. Smoke was rising from some of the streets and the gunfire was echoing across the city. He could see one of the barracks used by the Gold Cloaks was on fire and expected that heavy fighting was still going on there.

Later, historians would recall this as the start of the Princesses War.

 **AN: And Kings Landing Falls, the Farosi are victorious, the Spider falls and Princess Radwen sits upon the Iron Throne.**

 **So, that's more or less the end of this part of the story. It will continue though, please read the Epologue and I hope you have all enjoyed this story. The next part, "The Princesses War" is mostly planned out and I will begin publishing as soon as I've written a first draft of the first ten chapters. Yes, that one will be longer than this and I hope more epic.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Hitman: Thanks for the review, as for your predictions, you'll see soon.**

 **ATP: I hope this clarifies Ned's reasons for making his decision.**

 **Eriador12345: Thanks for your review. I hope this explains Ned's thought process. He doesn't believe that many would support another Targ on the throne after the Mad King and he doesn't want his nephew to be in too much danger which a king would have to deal with. On top of that he's worried about how much damage the Farosi could do to the way of life of the Westerosi. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Nestor 1000: Yeah, I've always wondered what would happen under that scenario, this is my version of it.**

 **kdakmmt: In fairness to Ned he was fighting then to bring down the Mad King, here he wants stable rule in Westeros under Renly who isn't insane.**

 **Tertius711: I expect that Radwen would be heartbroken if she learns the truth, however, will she or won't she? You'll have to see.**


	12. Epilogue

The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

 **AN: This is an Epilogue, go and read chapter Eleven first.**

Epologue

By the steering wheel of his flagship, the _FWS Royalty_ , Lord Admiral Greenman, the commander of the Farosi Fleet in Westeros, stood tall and proud, his sky blue uniform well cleaned and the sword at his waist ready. It wouldn't be likely that they would actually have to worry about enemy boarding actions but he always liked to be prepared. He knew that his legacy had already been garaunteed, it was his old ship, the first ship he had served as captain on, the _FWS Collier_ , that he had drawn Farsos into Westerosi affairs. He had been on patrol when a sudden storm picked up and had blown his ship far across the sea towards Westeros. They were able to put in for repairs at Lannisport, Lord Tywin had asked to see him and the man appeared annoyed that they were there by accident and the mysterious land of Farsos had no interest in trading with the Westerosi. They had loaded all of their supplies, the repairs had been finished and they were about to head out when, what he had assumed, pirates attacked the port. Under the law they were required to protect civilians from pirate attacks so he ordered the cannons loaded and they entered the battle, destroying half a dozen longships and fighting off hundreds of enemy boarders, the deck was slick with blood by the end of it and two out of every ten of his men were killed but they won the day. After that he had to speak with Lord Tywin again and promised him that he would set sail for Farsos and petition the Senate to support him against the Ironborn. In truth the last thing he wanted was Farsos to get pulled into a foreign war but he was a man of his word. He was surprised the king and the Senate agreed to enter the war and Farosi troops fought to take back the Iron Islands, the king himself leading them. Farosi cannons bombarded the Ironborn from the shore at Fair Isle while half a dozen frigates and a battleship, including the _Collier_ , fought in the naval battle as well.

That had been many years ago and, now as an Admiral, he was about to take part in the opening of another war. His current fleet numbered fifteen ships, three battleships, the _Collier, True Queen's Sword_ and the _Renegade,_ and ten frigates, _Prince Miccal, Serdera's Daughter, Serenity, Ruddy Girl, Grasshopper, Miners Son, Hamlin, King Jasper, Rightful_ and the _Iron Hand._ The last three of them were the new steam powered ships which had large paddles on either side so they could sail against the wind. Each of his battleships was armed with a hundred cannons, fifty on either side, and four at the front. The normal frigates had forty guns, twenty on each side, and another two at the front. The steam powered ships had reduced firepower at only fifteen guns on each side and four at the front but they could still do their job. Another forty warships were based at the Mid Isles, halfway between the Arbor and Farsos, and soon they would be sailing to join his fleet, he would be responsible with commanding the seas around this continent so the army could do their job.

His fleet was positioned in a line just within cannons range before the main harbour of the Arbor where the vast Arbor Fleet was at anchor. Their movement was causing no suspicion, Lord Redwyne believed that they would be performing exercises that day so their was no problem with them sailing past that morning as the sun rose. Through his telescope Admiral Greenman watched the sailors on their ships carrying out maintenance work, he then looked towards the hills overlooking the harbour and just managed to make out the Farosi artillerymen and their infantry escorts moving the last of their cannons into position. Over the course of the last night the rest of the Eighth Corps had been moved into position to sieze all of the major hold fasts on the island at the same time so no one could organise a counter attack.

'Sir,' Brevet Admiral Gerik, his second in command, said to him, 'all the ships are in position.'

Gerik had been his friend for years, he had been a Lieutenant on the _Collier_ but served as Commander after the original Commander had been killed in a boarding action.

'Good,' he said, snapping shut his telescope, 'now we just need to wait for the ground sloggers to actually do their jobs.'

'Yes sir,' he responded with a chuckle. 'Do you see the irony in this?'

'I suppose so. Years ago we were ambushed at port, now we're doing the ambushing.'

'It's all for the right reason isn't it?'

'Conquest, it's an excuse for conquest.'

'Better our king ruling Westeros than some barbarian over here.'

'True. Still, conquest is conquest.'

Suddenly a red firework exploded in the sky above the harbour. It was the signal.

'Alright. Fire at will.'

'All gunners!' Gerik shouted. 'Fire at will!'

The fifty cannons facing the Redwyne Fleet opened up, the other ships following at once. With so many enemy ships packed so close together there was little chance of missing. At the same time the cannons overlooking the harbour fired as well, cannon balls from the ships and shells from the land tore into the enemy ships, a fire started and in minutes they were shooting into an inferno and burning ships collided and began to sink. The few crew members aboard were evicerated and, in less than an hour, the Redwyne fleet was gone.

The United Kingdom of Farsos characters:

Radwen, the Princess of Farsos, and heir to the Emerald Throne. Ambassador to the court of King Robert Baratheon. Betrothed to Lieutenant Jon Snow.

Colonel Donnah, commander of the Miltary Police Detachment in Kings Landing.

Brigadier Curn, commander of the Embassy Guard and Farosi Military garrison in Kings Landing.

Captain Lowhill, commander of the 21st Regiment of Light Horses Third Company.

Captain Howmer, commander of Princess Radwen's Royal Guard company.

Jon Snow, a Lieutenant of Light Horse. Bastard son of Eddard Stark, Warden of the North (in truth the son of Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna).

Samwell Tarly, a Lieutenant of His Majesties Army Engineers, assigned to assist building work in the Farosi District.

Sergeant Osoni, Jon Snow's second in command.

Corporal Donley, Jon Snow's third in command.

 **AN: Thanks for reading. Please review, let me know what you think and I'll see you all soon for Book Two, The Princesses War.**


	13. The Farosi Armed Forces

The Farosi Armed Forces

 **AN: So, a few things. One, I think I made a mistake by uploading Chapter 11 and the Epologue on the same day as it appears that some of my readers ended up skipping chapter 11 entirely. So, please, if you didn't go and read it.**

 **Second: I have written the first two chapters of the next book "The Princesses War" but I am not sure when I will make it to chapter 10. As I said before I was planning on beginning posting when I had the first ten chapters written but if you want I will begin posting at the start of the New Year, it will mean less regular updates though. I will set up a poll on my page for you to decide.**

 **Third: In an effort to clear up the size of the Farosi military I have created this page for you to look at, detailing the size of the Farosi Army and Navy.**

The Farosi Army:

The heart of the Farosi army is made up of twenty Battle Corps.

A Farosi Battle Corps numbers 13,600 men

Commander: General (The rank of Brigadier is given to a colonel who is in command of a force of several regiments but not at Corps strength, such as Brigadier Curn, the commander of the Kings Landing garrison)

10,000 Infantry, divided into 10 Regiments (2 battalions in a regiment, 2 companies in a battalion and 5 platoons in a company)

1,800 Light Horse divided into 3 Regiments (2 companies in a regiment, 3 troops in a battalion)

1,800 Heavy Horse divided into 3 Regiments (2 companies in a regiment, 3 troops in a battalion)

Between 5 and 20 artillery pieces

Total: 272,000 Men

* * *

Supporting the Battle Corps are the Specialist Corps, where each Battle Corps is representing the combined arms doctrine of infantry, light cavalry, heavy cavalry and artillery, each of the Specialist Corps are made up entirely of one type of these units.

Infantry Specialist Corps (20 exist)

5,000 Infantry, divided into 5 Regiments.

Total: 100,000

Light Horse Specialist Corps (10 exist)

1,800 Light Horse, divided into 3 Regiments.

Total: 18,000

Heavy Horse Specialist Corps (10 Exist)

1,800 Heavy Horse, divided into 3 Regiments

Total: 18,000

* * *

Reserve Army:

After serving twenty years int he regular army a soldier is placed into the Reserve Army for the next ten years. For a month every year they report for duty to undergo training. In times of national emergency they go abroad but usually guard supply depots.

The Reserve Army is made up of ten corps of the same structure as the regular army.

Total: 136,000

* * *

Total Size of the Farosi Army (all branches): 544,000

Note: This represents only the full Farosi Army, the entire force is never concentrated in one place, rather it is spread across Farsos in preperation for defending the homeland.

* * *

National Militia:

Each District of Farsos, a region with a population of 100,000 people, must maintain a militia in the event of an invasion or to assist the police during civil unrest. Each Districts Militia is commanded by a District Military Governor and is made up of three regiments of foot and two regiments of heavy horse. Under no circumstances are they allowed artillery.

The National Militia never leave Farsos and are not an official part of the armed forces. Also, many members of the militia are also members of the Reserve Army.

* * *

Royal Navy:

Until recently the Farosi have had no need for a large scale navy. This led to naval technology to lag behind that of the army, during the Fifteen Years War the inferior Farosi navy was defeated again and again by the larger and superior Gwaitholi fleet, considering the fact that Gwaithol is made up of several large islands this is not a surprise.

After the way the Farosi began to copy the designs of Gwaithol's ships and modifying them to fit on cannons. There are two primary ship designs, the Battle Ships, massive warships with over a hundred guns which serve as the capital ships for Admirals and the centre of battle lines, and Frigates, smaller and faster ships outfitted with forty guns. There are also Steamer Frigates armed with just over thrity guns but can move against the wind and are incredibly fast, serving as scouts or interceptor craft.

Total Size of Farosi Royal Navy:

Batteships: 30

Frigates: 215

Steamer Frigates: 40

Total: 285 Ships

Note: The Farosi Fleet is still outnumbered by that of Gwaithol's but the Farosi have developed superior artillery on their ships as a counter.

* * *

Royal Marine Service:

Each ship has a detachment of Royal Marines aboard who serve to defend the ship from enemy boarding actions or carry out boarding actions or speacialist naval attacks.

Battleship Contingent: 300 Marines.

Frigate Contingent: 100 Marines

Steamer Frigate Contingent: 100 Marines.

Total Size: 34,500 Marines.


	14. Sequal Announcement

The Princesses War Update

Good news everyone, the sequel's first ten chapters are ready to go. The first chapter will be published later today so keep an eye out.


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